


WANT

by heartjoongs (krucxa)



Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: ? I think?, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Blood and Injury, Character Turned Into Vampire, M/M, Mentions of Rape, Mystery, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Park Seonghwa is a Softie, Polyamory, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, i had to change the tags ghskjhgk sowwy, if anyone asks who's with who. they're all apart of the polycule lmao, like it Happened but it's not!! actually in the fic!! if u get what i mean, no beta we die like men, ok this is lowkey san/everyone. but main focus is on san and hong+hwa+yunho
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-19
Updated: 2019-07-13
Packaged: 2019-11-24 19:51:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 24,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18169331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/krucxa/pseuds/heartjoongs
Summary: "Hello."The single word takes him aback for a moment, from just how sweet the stranger's voice is. Dripping with honey, whether intentional or not ㅡ and the boy sends him an easy smile, before following his greeting with a, "I didn't expect to see a new Vamp in town."





	1. i just wanna love you,

**Author's Note:**

> ayy!! i mentioned this fic before, and i'm finally posting the first chapter !! :o  
> tbh i'm kinda excited for this, but i'll only continue it if people actually like it hgksj i don't wanna get my hopes up hfjshkjs  
> anyway, as y'all probably know, since. this is. my fic. it's unbeta'd hshgjskh but i hope you'll like it anyway!!
> 
> oh btw the title is bc of taemin and the chapter titles will be from eden's suffering for love!!)

The pain is throbbing in his head, his heartbeat the only sound that reaches him over the numb ringing in his ears. Every part of his body feels on fire, and his muscles burn in refusal as he staggers ahead.

He has no idea how he managed to escape, just as he has no idea where, exactly, he's going ㅡ the only thing he knows, is that he has to get out, as far away as possible, from where he is right now.

It's not an easy thing to do, though, considering just how much blood he's already lost, his hand grasping at his neck desperately, slipping in his hold, hopelessly trying to stop the blood from flowing out any more. Although all his attempts are useless, he's always been too stubborn for his own good, so he only winces before taking another painful step ahead, his sneakers sliding on the wet ground and he barely manages to reach his hand out before he stumbles into the wall of the alley. It's an ugly shade of light yellow, obviously uncared for, because the paint is already chipping away at the edges, and his palm traces a deep red smudge on the surface of it, a scarring contrast that almost makes him want to puke.

His hair is sticking to his forehead in damp, messy strands, his lungs filling with air mixed with the stench of dried blood, and he doesn't think he's ever felt so lost as he does in this exact moment.

It's almost impossible to focus on one thing, not when he still has the image of the basement in his mind, not when he still recalls the rough rope around his wrists and thin fingers circling his neck, not when he can still feel the dull pain when a pair of sharp teeth sank into his skin.

He's been assaulted, raped and beaten, and just the memory is enough to have him heaving. As much as he hates the sound of it, he needs to make the fact clear in his mind, in order to accept it as truth and not go mad in the process. And he knows, he hasn't eaten even once since that disgusting excuse of a man has taken him hostage ㅡ and it might've not been for very long, but it sure felt like ages before he finally fled ㅡ so it's not like there's really anything he could actually puke out, besides maybe spit mingled with his own blood, but the feeling remains.

And as he takes another shaky step ahead, there's only so much he can do when his foot skids over the pavement, and he only has a second to brace himself before his entire body slams into the ground.

There's a metallic taste filling his mouth, so he assumes he must've bitten his tongue as he collided, and he's pretty sure his wrist is bend in a way that can't possibly be natural, but he's too tired, his mind too foggy from blood loss, and everything turns blurry before eventually, he passes out.

  


  


When he wakes up again, for a second he almost believes he's not alive anymore.

That is, before the sudden, hollow ache hits him, and he hisses from where he's still lying face down on the ground.

Slowly, he splays his fingers over the cold, dry surface, taking a deep breath that sets his entire chest on fire before pushing himself up.

Despite how stiff his shoulders feel, standing up turns out to be surprisingly easy, at least compared to how impossible it seemed before he lost consciousness.

Then, he realizes two things.

One, even though every single part of his body hurts, he finds himself still able to move, as if he hasn't lost any energy or strength in the end, which he knows, he _surely_ has. Slowly, he breathes in, stretches his neck, and keeps a careful eye on his hands as he cracks his knuckles. Yeah, it hurts, but despite it all, what he thought would end up as a twisted wrist, looks perfectly fine, almost too _perfectly_ , actually.

And second, as he drags his dry tongue over his bottom lip, noting the cracked skin and briefly wondering just how close to dying he must look, he casts his gaze up, and his breath stutters in his throat.

Because he's still in the same, damned alley, which is at least blissfully empty ㅡ in any other case, he'd have to listen to his instincts again, and get the hell out of there ㅡ and the sky, barely visible through the buildings surrounding him, is moderately getting lighter as he guesses the sun must be rising over the horizon.

And for a second, he freezes.

Because, shit, if the sun is already up, then just how much time must have passed since he lost consciousness? Has it been the whole night already? Has it been even longer than that? What if someone wandered through the streets and found him, lying on the ground, a second away from bleeding out? But then, wouldn't he already be brought somewhere else, a hospital maybe, or halfway to a coffin? Unless, if witnessed, he was only assumed to be just your usual drunken man, passed out after a night of drinking his sorrows away. Honestly, with his matted hair and torn clothing, he wouldn't be surprised if that were the case.

Running his fingers through his dishevelled fringe, he comes to a conclusion: he has to get back to his house, get himself to look at least somewhat presentable, and then ㅡ then, what?

He can't report what happened, not when it's more than likely that his rapist is already experienced in dealing with lawsuits and other victims that managed to flee. The man was too confident in the way he acted, San couldn't possibly be his first victim.

Fingers playing with the sleeve of his torn jumper, he guesses he'll just have to figure everything out on his way there.

Now, marching ahead, it seems so much easier compared to, what he assumes must've been the day before. If not for the dried blood covering his entire neck and chest, smeared over his hand and tracing the sides of his jaw, he thinks there would be no sign of what's been done to him. His pace is even, the sound of his footsteps filling the alley and it's almost ridiculous, because he can't wrap his head around the fact that suddenly, he seems just fine.

Even though all his muscles burn, it's the kind of pain he's pretty sure he hasn't experienced before. It almost feels as if first, his body has been ripped to pieces, and is only now trying to regenerate.

Honestly, when he thinks about it now, he's kind of glad for the early hour ㅡ the streets are empty, no one to witness his dishevelled state, no one to panic over him possibly being some serial killer or whatever else that comes to mind, no one to call police on him for the suspiciously red stains covering him.

It takes him an almost embarrassingly long while until he finally recognizes the part of the city he's at, and where he's located in comparison to where his house is.

It's admittedly far away, and he curses the sun as it keeps rising higher, the time running away as he rushes through the, fortunately still mostly empty road, even though he's pretty sure he passes by an alarmed looking woman ㅡ her eyes widen almost comically when she meets his gaze, and she opens her mouth as if to scream, but he doesn't get to hear it as he's already speeding past her, away and into the nearest shortcut, just to get out of her line of sight.

After that, it goes smoothly.

He's already in front of his house before he even realizes it, and he almost crashes into the door in his haste, which brings him back to reality. Only then, does he actually, properly _look_ at the building, and a wave of shock washes over him.

Because the glass of the nearest window is shattered, the front door nearly dislocated from its spot in the doorway, and as he peeks inside, he realizes, the inside of his house doesn't look any better.

Hastily looking around, his eyes lock onto the _for sale_ sign on the side of the building, and to his horror, he deems that no, this cannot be a dream, this is actually happening, and for just how long must've he been out? Logically, it wouldn't be possible for all that he knew to change so much in only one night, scratch that, maybe not even a whole _week_. Just what has happened to his house? Or, more importantly, what has happened to him?

Before he even has the chance to panic, he takes a deep breath again, but it does nothing to soothe his nerves. It's almost like air wasn't something that his body literally needed to live, because it feels too fake, too mechanical, as if he was only a robot trying to simulate bodily functions, not an actual, living being.

Stomping down his anxiety, he slips inside the building, carefully avoiding the crooked door. And, just as he's expected, when he makes his way through the rooms, they're all barren from the furniture he's known for so long now, and the sight makes him so strangely uncomfortable, he can't help but shiver.

Twisting his mouth, he makes a beeline for the bathroom, immediately coming face to face with his own reflection ㅡ which, he doesn't even recognize at first, and he startles when he sees his own eyes, wide in shock, before his gaze trails down to his neck, and all the filth covering both his clothes and the wound. He can't even see it under all the dried blood, for fuck's sake.

It comes as a satisfying surprise, that when he turns the faucet, actual water pours down. So, it couldn't have been _too_ long then, if it wasn't cut down yet.

He guesses, he can take advantage of the fact, and before he can over think it, he's already halfway out of his clothes, and climbing into the shower. He can't help but shudder when the water finally, _finally_ hits his back. It's cold, pretty much freezing, but he doesn't mind. Really, he doesn't think he's in any state that he even could mind it.

Just the fact that it's washing down all the dust, all the sweat and blood is blissful enough.

He doesn't know how much time he spends in the shower. Probably more than it would be acceptable. Maybe he's enjoying it too much, as he runs his hand through his, now clean, hair, only matted down by water, for once. But he doesn't care, not when he finally feels somewhat peaceful, despite what happened to him, and despite his unsure future.

Deciding to distract himself from thinking, he leaves the shower, and maybe there's water dripping all over the wooden floor, but it's not like that matters anymore. This place isn't what he would call his home, now.

Making his way to what once was his bedroom, he quickly examines what's left of the closet, the few hangers and some stray clothes that whoever was here last, must've forgotten about ㅡ it's almost stupidly convenient, but hey, he's not going to complain about having something, that's at least somewhat clean, to change into.

Only then does he let himself glance into the dislocated mirror, and then he stops, as his thoughts run wild.

Because his skin is now clean of all the dirt, which means he can _clearly_ see the two pointed wounds at the base of his neck. They're small and precise, but apparently deep enough to have him almost bleeding out before, and the fact makes him feel sick.

Now that he's done washing up, he has nothing left to do.

  


  


He doesn't really know how, nor why he ended up where he's sitting right now, if he's being honest.

The inside of the obscure bar turns out to be way more welcoming, maybe even comfortable, than he first pegged it to be, and he can't help but melt back into his seat by the counter. He's pretty sure he can feel the bartender's curious gaze on the side of his head, but the man doesn't meet his eyes when he glances to check.

San doesn't bother ordering anything, because it's not like he'd be able to actually pay for it. He hasn't seen neither his phone nor his wallet since the man has taken him hostage, and he's pretty sure he's not going to do so any time soon, either.

He doesn't really know what to do with himself, anyway.

There isn't really any place he could go when he gets kicked out, either, as it'll have to happen eventually. He hasn't been in the town for too long, having decided that he's mature enough to finally live on his own ㅡ and, as extroverted as he is, he's never been too good at getting to know new people, and apparently he's not interesting enough for strangers to talk to him first, either, so he's really just all alone in this, isn't he.

He's so lost in his own thoughts that he almost startles when a cup slides over the counter, smoothly gliding into a stop in front of him. For a second, he only stares at it blankly, blinking once, twice before casting his gaze up and quirking his eyebrow at the bartender in a silent question.

"I didn't order this," he says, because as tempting as it is, he's not going to take something that's not his ㅡ especially when he has no money to pay for it, if anyone were to ask.

But the man only nods swiftly, his shoulders rising in a noncommittal shrug, even though there's something cautious in his gaze as he replies, "I know. It's on the house."

Only then does San let himself properly take in the bartender. He's tall, easily hovering over the sitting customers, a jet black fringe falling in gentle curves and covering most of his forehead. There's no trace of dishonesty in the way he holds himself, and the only word San could describe the look the other is shooting him would be curious. Yet, he still doesn't think that's the truth.

"Really?" he murmurs, but despite his following words, he still reaches for the cup, slowly pulling it closer to his frame, "why would it be, though? You don't know me. We've never talked. There's no reason for you to give out drinks on the house to random customers."

The man visibly winces at that, _ha, got you_.

A few seconds of silence follow, only interrupted by the casual, slurred chatter of the few other customers occupying the bar, the ocassional clink of glass against wood or the sound of a chair being dragged against the floor. San's surprised to find that it doesn't bother him as much as he thinks it should, and he flicks his gaze to the cup in front of him, the pad of his finger trailing the edge of it as he hesitates, before finally bringing it up to his lips.

He doesn't notice it at first, but suddenly it hits him, as he takes the first sip, the smooth liquid sliding down his throat ㅡ it feels so stunningly refreshing, almost unbelievably so, kind of like a cold glass of water on a melting hot summer day. It soothes the thirst he didn't even realize he felt until now, the muscles of his neck relaxing and briefly, he wonders just what, exactly, it is. As he puts the cup down onto the counter, he takes a proper look at the drink. It seems so silky, velvety red, and only after a second does he note the metallic tang that accompanies it.

Before he has the time to ask, his head snapping up and eyes widening in realization, the bartender is already speaking again.

"Okay, you caught me, it's not on the house. It's actually this guy's threat," the man nods his head to the side, San's gaze immediately following the movement, oblivious to the way the bartender's shoulders visibly stiffen, "he asked me not to tell you, but since you figured it out, I guess you deserve to know."

Unconsciously, San's fingers tighten their grip on the cup as his eyes lock onto the said guy sitting on the far corner of the counter. The first word to describe the boy that comes to his mind would be petite, even though he barely looks an inch shorter than San himself. His posture is relaxed, head resting comfortably on top of his palm, and there's a curious glint in his eyes as he stares right back at San.

With all of the guy's attention on San, he can't help but feel judged ㅡ there's something intimidating about the stranger, but in the softest way possible. Not the scary kind, more like a 'cute college upperclassman that somehow manages to have genius grades yet also still has an actual social life'. San's always felt intimidated by the type, as the irrational part of his mind quickly became convinced they must've sold their soul to a neighbourhood demon to achieve this.

He watches as the stranger's eyes slide down to the cup carefully cradled in San's hands, before flicking up to meet his gaze again, and he almost looks expectant, as if waiting for some kind of reaction ㅡ to what, though, San has no idea.

But then, the corner of the boy's lips quirks up, satisfied by whatever it must've been, before he climbs down from his stool and strides his way up to San. With a friendly wave, the stranger slides into the seat next to him, nodding at the bartender ㅡ and as if that was some sort of their secret code, the man takes a step back, but keeps a careful eye on San ㅡ before his eyebrows rise in what seems to be amusement.

"Hello."

The single word takes him aback for a moment, from just how sweet the stranger's voice is. Dripping with honey, whether intentional or not ㅡ and the boy sends him an easy smile, before following his greeting with a, "I didn't expect to see a new Vamp in town."

It's only now that San takes notice of the particular hairstyle he's pretty sure he hasn't seen anyone pull off since his childhood, but for some reason, it fits the stranger's vibe almost perfectly ㅡ the few longer locks that peek out of his jacket curl around his neck in soft strands, and it's like once San casts his gaze to his throat, he's physically unable to look away. He can faintly hear it, his own heartbeat rushing in his ears, but then, wait, that doesn't sound like his own. It seems to reach him from a small distance, exactly from his side, where the stranger is sitting, but that would make no sense. In that case, he shouldn't be able to hear it, right?

Tilting his head to the side, he glances at the stranger quizically, "Vamp?"

The boy only blinks back at him, looking stunned for a whole minute before his eyes lose their light and his lips part in a silent gasp, "oh. Oh no."

The change in his stance is immediate, as his shoulders slump the slightest bit and he keeps staring at San with ㅡ what is it, pity? ㅡ before his eyes fall to his neck, frantically searching for _something_ , and he murmurs, "no, please, don't tell me you're a fledgling."

His eyebrows furrowed, "what do you mean, a fledgling? Iㅡ I don't even know what this word means."

The stranger doesn't reply immediately, though. Instead, he silently reaches his hand out, tipping San's drink closer to his chest, and with a crestfallen expression, he says, "drink it. You'll need it."

"What is it?"

Waiting for the boy to answer, he grips the drink and cautiously brings it up, taking sips small enough that he's still able to look the other in the eye. The guy squirms, suddenly uneasy, "uh. It's kind of like a shake, but with," he shoots a quick glance at the bartender, who doesn't waste his time making his way over, "blood, mainly."

At that, San chokes.

Clasping a hand on top of his mouth, he coughs a few times before spitting out a few droplets of the drink, the deep red smudging on the wooden counter, and he stares, terrified, at the duo ㅡ both carefully watching him, the bartender looking a second away from grabbing him if he even thought of screaming or making a run for it, though it only takes him a second to realize that they only look worried for him. For whatever reason.

"What the fuck," he hisses out, his voice a few tones higher than it usually is, to the point that even he, himself, barely recognizes it. Which, by the way, doesn't help in making the two any less worried.

His eyes follow the bartender closely as he shifts his weight from one leg to another, visibly battling his own self about whether he should speak up or not, but then the petite guy beats him to it, "are you... okay?"

Deadpan, he turns to stare at the boy, before saying flatly, "do I _look_ okay?"

"Cute, yeah, but also pretty overwhelmed," replies the bartender, and in any other situation, San would probably feel a tingle of satisfaction at being called cute ㅡ right now, he's too stressed for that, though.

Out of the corner of his eye, he can see the boy wiggling in his seat nervously, and his gaze softens before he adds in, "this must be... really shocking, right?" his voice wavers towards the end, but it sounds so genuine, San can't wrap his head around the reason why, "wait, shit, do you have any place to go back to?"

Freezing, San thinks back to his own house, with it's broken window, for sale sign and absolutely bare of all of the furnitureㅡ "actually, no, not really."

The stranger seems uncertain for a second, his eyes flicking up to meet the bartender's gaze, as if they were having a silent conversation through looks alone, before a sigh slips past his lips and he says, "I know, you're probably lost and you have no reason to trust me, butㅡ I swear, if you only choose to, I can explain everything. And give you a place to stay, at least for tonight," there's an unreadable emotion in his gaze, but it's gone as fast as it appeared, and he winces before continuing, "as... as a fledgling, it's not safe for you to spend the night outside. Not so soon after being turned."

And then, yeah. San's lost. Quite literally. He has no clue what the other is talking about, but there are two things he's sure of.

One, he really has nowhere to go now. He's already been stressing out about the fact for the last two hours, and he thinks it's pretty safe to say, he's pretty much desperate at this point.

Two, as ominous as the whole bloody shake sounded, the duo haven't shown any signs of aggression, or desire to hurt him. Quite the opposite, actually. Especially the petite one, he seemed so open, so curious but genuine ㅡ and since San doesn't really have anything to lose at this point, he doesn't really have any reason to decline his offer, no?

Besides, he still wants to know what's wrong with him, as of late.

"Sure," he nibbles on his lip, keeping a careful eye on the bartender, "please, tell me everything."

At that, both of them relax, and a tiny smile finds It's way back onto the shorter boy's lips. In no time, he's already sliding off the stool and waving his hand in a vague gesture, "okay. Okay, but let's get there first, since there won't be any random human to accidentally hear this. Oh, I'm Hongjoong, by the way," then, he points his thumb behind his back, at the bartender, "and this giant guy over here is Yunho."

San watches as the said man smiles at him openly, in a way that's probably too cheerful for not only the late hour, but the place they're at, and at that exact moment, he can't help but get reminded of an oversized puppy.

"San," is his only reply, taking Hongjoong's outstretched palm in his and shaking gently. The boy's grip is firmer than he expected it to be, but still careful enough as not to have it hurt.

Squinting at the other, he has to admit, the stranger has piqued his interest.

  


  


The thing that he quickly learns about Hongjoong, on their way to the boy's place, is that he has a talent of openly saying a lot, while managing not to actually reveal anything, if he doesn't want to.

He's quick witted, and has his way with words, dancing around the topic without out right answering either of San's questions. But then, that might also be because of what he's said earlier ㅡ about explaining everything when they finally get there, in peace, without the need to whisper, so eventually San gets the hint and shuts his mouth, choosing to look around and hopefully remembering the route they take.

Just, in case he was actually too gullible and had to flee again.

Whatever he was expecting, though, it wasn't for Hongjoong to suddenly halt to a stop and with the most casual expression ever, tilt his head in the direction of a fucking _mansion_ ㅡ no, San isn't even exaggerating, not this time ㅡ before saying, "we're here."

Like it's not even a big deal. Christ, San barely had enough money to pay the bills of his tiny house, but now you're telling him the tiny stranger is loaded?

Clearly realizing what's going through San's head, the boy shakes his head with a chuckle, "oh my, no, this isn't exactly mine, per se, it's my partner's. He's the rich one."

_Partner's?_ "doesn't that technically make it yours as well?"

Hongjoong juts his lower lip, his gaze wandering as he thinks, "I guess. But we all live here," then, he turns to grin at San, "and now, you too, if only you wish to."

He doesn't have any response to that, so he only nods silently, watching as Hongjoong opens the gate, and he proceeds to slip inside after the boy.

Casting his gaze overhead, he stares at the huge building, slowly following Hongjoong as he shuffles ahead, clearly already used to the sight by now.

"So," he starts, unsure how to phrase his question, "what did you mean by, that? You know, at the bar. Vamp? Fledgling? What does it all have to me?"

For a moment, Hongjoong turns his head to the side and meets his gaze, "surely you've heard of vampires before?"

His eyebrows furrow, because, yeah, obviously he's heard of them. When he was like, ten or so.

It was a popular topic by then, people talking over each other, accusing their own neighbours of being the imagined blood suckers and murderers, mothers scaring their kids using the simple mention of them so they don't misbehave. It wasn't that long until people suddenly stopped talking about it, only sharing rumours in hushed whispers, as if someone was forcing them to stay quiet. Who knows, maybe it was the government, like the conspiracy theorists said. San was too young to actually pay attention to that.

"Barely," he admits. There's no reason to hide it, he thinks.

The word makes the other stop, and he turns around to look San up and down with a contemplative expression. Then, he mutters, so quietly that San's sure he wasn't even meant to hear it, "I guess you must've been a kid back then."

But then, his face lights up again, and he continues, back to his usual tone, "you know, a lot of people think the entire drama was a scam. Some don't even _believe_ they really exist," his face twists as he says it, "but then, I guess that's for the better."

"Wait, are you trying to say that vampires are, actually, real?"

For some reason, his question makes Hongjoong snicker. But San doesn't really think there was anything funny about it.

"Obviously. They're different from what humans used to say, though," the boy finally comes to a shop in front of the door, but doesn't open it. Instead, he turns around to face San properly, as if he wanted to see San's reaction to what he was hearing, "you're one of them, now. A vampire. Or, actually a fledgling, since you probably haven't been turned too long ago."

There's something grim about the way Hongjoong holds himself, now, which San chooses not to comment on. Instead, he only continues to stare at the boy, confused, until Hongjoong's gaze darkens and he reaches over, the tips of his fingers almost touching San's neck when he startles, reminded of the phantom feeling of hands circled around his neck, choking off his access to air, and before he even knows it, he's already jumping a step back and slapping the other's hand away.

It seems that neither of them expected it, based on Hongjoong's stunned expression, and he rushes to say, "shit, sorry, I justㅡ please, please don't touch me," casting his eyes to the ground, he's too scared to meet the boy's gaze as he adds, "at least not there."

"Okay."

For a second, he can't believe how quickly the other drops it ㅡ but then, he looks up and notices the crestfallen look on Hongjoong's face, so similiar to the one at the bar, and then he guesses, the boy must understand him better than he first thought.

"You don't have to decide anything right now, if you were wondering. It's understandable, you need time to process all of this," he speaks up again, easily ignoring San's sudden behavior, "It's a lot to take in."

But then, "wait, you speak of vampires as of _them_ ㅡ what are you, then?"

Hongjoong only smiles, tightlipped, "I don't believe this is the right time to tell you," and with that, he grabs the knob and opens the door.

It pushes open slowly, a loud creak accompanying it, high enough to make the both of them wince ㅡ San's always been sensitive to sound, but right now he finds himself even more uncomfortable than he usually would be. At least it doesn't last too long.

Shuddering, he tries not to think about the uneasy feeling that sinks at the bottom of his stomach, standing on his tiptoes in order to try and peek inside from above Hongjoong's frame. He doesn't have to wait long before the boy walks inside, and he follows, uncertain, taking off his shoes as carefully as he can ㅡ he's too scared of leaving a mess, even as Hongjoong only toes off his own pair before knocking them to the side with his heel.

For some reason, it seems a little too unceremonious in his eyes; he decides not to comment, though.

Feeling like a lost puppy, he trails after Hongjoong, looking around the spacious hall. As much as he doesn't want to think about it, he feels watched, either by something or by someone, yet he doesn't see anyone around.

That is, until they enter what San assumes must be the living room, and he sees a blonde figure sitting in one of the armchairs, a book in the person's lap, and at first the man looks entirely absorbed in the story, but right as they step inside his head snaps up and his eyes lock straight onto San.

Which also, makes him freeze.

Because the stranger is the most attractive person San's ever seen. Like, _stupidly_ attractive. To the point that it's unfair. It kind of makes him want to curse, because how couldn't he, when the blonde is all sharp features and deep eyes, forehead revealed as his fringe is brushed to the side in a way that absolutely shouldn't make San's throat feel all tight, but it does, and shit, for the first time in his life, San finds himself speechless.

And then, one of the stranger's eyebrows quirks up ㅡ which, obviosuly, _doesn't help_ ㅡ and he doesn't break the eye contact as he says, "a fledgling?"

He hears Hongjoong sigh, the sound almost enough to get his attention again, "unfair, how can you tell if he's a fledgling or not?"

The question finally, _finally_ makes the blonde cast his gaze to Hongjoong, and for a moment, San can think properly again.

"He smells different."

"Ah," glancing at the boy, he notes how bitter he suddenly sounds, even though there's a hint of a smile on his face as he replies, "sorry, I forgot about the whole superior senses bullshit."

If San didn't feel so intimidated by the blonde, he'd probably crack a smile right now. But he is, so he only keeps silent, even as the stranger closes his book carefully, putting it on the nearest shelf and slowly making his way over. His eyes travel up and down, until they lock on a single spot on his neck ㅡ presumably where he knows the wound is. Suddenly self-conscious, he brings his hand up to cover the spot, which in turn makes the blonde avert his eyes.

Before he even has the time to come any closer, though, Hongjoong takes a step ahead, as if shielding San from the other, before murmuring, "careful, Seonghwa, seems like the kid was turned against his will."

Uneasy, he watches as the stranger ㅡ Seonghwa, as it seems ㅡ only blinks back at Hongjoong as he processes the information. Then, his eyes widen. It's barely visible, and San wouldn't even notice the change if he wasn't paying attention, but there's horror in his gaze, and he turns a sympathetic look at San. The unspoken _I'm sorry_ hangs, heavy, in the air, and for a moment, neither of them says anything, until Hongjoong speaks up again.

"San? It's late. Would you like to rest, now?"

Numbly, he only nods in reply. He sees the way Hongjoong and Seonghwa share a worried look, but doesn't react to it. He's too tired, all of the events of the day suddenly hitting him at once, and he doesn't think sleep has ever sounded as nice as it does now.

Slowly, Hongjoong steps closer, reaching his hand out for San to take, "I'll show you your room, yeah?"

Eyeing the boy's palm for a solid few seconds, he mumbles, "you mean the guest room?" and immediately feels guilty when he notices Hongjoong's shoulders slumping with a sigh.

"Yeah, theㅡ the guest room. If you wish to leave tomorrow, that is," he replies easily, even though San can hear the disappointment in his voice. The boy's hand almost falls back to his side, but San catches it before that can happen, hoping to make the other feel better again.

"I. I'll think about it."

The gentle smile that Hongjoong sends him makes it worth it.

  


  


If San thought the mansion was huge before, he has no idea what to think about it now.

Really, he tried to keep track of the route they took from the living room, through the halls, a stair case, another hall, took a rightㅡ but then, he swears he only blinked and the entire hall looked so much different. Seriously, how huge is this place? Because he is definitely, cross his heart and hope to die, utterly lost.

At least Hongjoong seems to know where he's going, and the boy keeps sending him amused glances every time he as much as stutters out a confused sound at yet another turn, and yet another hall, and yet another door passed, and yetㅡ

He almost collides straight into Hongjoong when the boy suddenly stops in front of him. It feels awful lot like a déjà vu.

Wordlessly, Hongjoong points his chin at the door in front of him, and San only hesitates for a second before opening it.

Now, the first thing he notices, is that the room is almost two times bigger than his old room at what was one his house ㅡ because, of course it would be. No, San's not salty, not at all ㅡ and he doesn't even notice when his mouth falls open until Hongjoong snickers and gently taps his chin closed.

Not even hiding his awe, he stares at the carefully decorated room, the tall shelves full of books, the numerous paintings hanged on the walls, the king sized bed in the cornerㅡ "are you sure this is just a guest room?"

He feels Hongjoong lay his hand on his back, gently pushing him inside, and the boy follows after him before replying, "I told you, it is a guest room, but it can also be yours, if only you want it to be."

When he doesn't reply, fortunately Hongjoong seems to pick up on his hesitance, "but please, take your time before you decide. You seem tired, you can just tell me tomorrow. Or, maybe even later, seriously, take as much time as you need."

Hongjoong's almost ridiculously considerate, he thinks, nodding as he pads over to the bed, too tired to really think about anything at this point. Slowly, he sits down, before leaning back and sinking into the soft, plush covers with a content sigh. He also chooses to ignore Hongjoong's chuckle.

"Oh, by the way, I'll send Jongho to wake you up, if that's okay?" a questioning hum, "he's a Vamp, just like you. One of our housemates. Other than him, there's only Yunho and Wooyoung. I'm sure you'll meet the latter eventually."

With a noncomittal murmur of _okay_ , he tries to note the information at the back of his mind, but before he really knows it, he's already drifting off.

Guess the day's events really took a toll on him ㅡ both emotionally and physically, it seems.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so... do you like it??
> 
> (eat the rich, they said, b4 writing a fic and making seonghwa stupidly loaded for No Reason)


	2. touch you,

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey!! i'm back!! finally fkshdjhdj i had such a bad writers block lately, i honestly couldn't write a single sentence for a whole month,, it was hell.  
> but!! this is what i managed to write the last few days!! i haven't beta'd it yet, bc i was too excited about finally updating something, so there might be some typos or other mistakes,,  
> but i hope y'all like this anyway!!

He comes to slowly, which isn't really a surprise in on itself ㅡ truthfully, San's never been a morning person, spending most of the night in every single way other than sleeping, until he'd finally crash. Because sleep is only a waste of time, at least that's what he deemed it in his teenage years, what he's never really grew out of. That's why, on the days he doesn't have to get up at a specific hour, he'd more often than not stay in bed for a prolonged amount of time after waking up, too comfortable in the soft, warm covers to bother pretending that he's a responsible adult.

What does come as a surprise, though, while he tips his head back into the silky pillows, bright red filling his vision due to the harsh light slipping through the windows ㅡ it's the quiet grumble that suddenly fills the room, the sound of a hand tugging the curtains loose, and it cuts off the stream of sunshine that trickled onto his face barely seconds before.

"Wake up, sleeping beauty."

The voice doesn't sound neither too cutesy, nor too cold. More neutral, if anything. It doesn't reveal any emotions the person might be feeling, not scolding, not flirting, it's only simply _there_ , and the fact that San can't quite tell anything important based on the tone of it makes him frustrated. The only thing he notes is how melodic it sounds, and he briefly wonders whether the person takes any vocal lessons ㅡ they must have a strikingly beautiful voice while singing. Or maybe that's just a wild guess. For the sake of his own satisfaction, he hopes it turns out to be right.

For a second, nothing follows, only the delicate shuffle as the person pads their way over to the bed, and then, "I know you're awake. Your breath hitched after I spoke up. Hongjoong told me to get you, so get up, fledgling. He might have the patience of a saint, but I sure don't."

Finally cracking an eye open, he turns to face the person, his gaze locking with a boy seemingly young enough for him to do a double take.

"You'reㅡ" he trails off, both due to the dry burn at the back of his throat and the realization that quickly dawns on him. Sure, the other might look like a kid, but then, Hongjoong mentioned the boy ㅡ Jongho? He thinks that sounds right ㅡ being a vampire, so who knows just how old he might actually be, really.

Jongho doesn't seem surprised, though. He only quirks up an eyebrow at San, gesturing at the door vaguely, "rise and shine, baby Vamp. I'm gonna wait outside, so you better change quickly."

"I'm not a baby," he murmurs in reply, but Jongho swiftly ignores him, already halfway out before San even knows it. The vampire swings the door closed, but hesitates right as it's about to shut, instead leaving it to hover an inch away from the frame. It's like a reminder, as if that alone was enough to tell San, _hey, I'm still here_ , though he's unsure whether in a way to get him to hurry up or an almost scarily contrasting one ㅡ that he's not alone in having been turned.

Or maybe he's just looking too much into this. Probably. He's still too mushy after waking up, so that's probably it.

He doesn't waste any time getting up after that. There's a ridiculous amount of clothes inside the closet, ranging from silky and extravagant to heavy leather and plush sweaters. He eyes them for solid ten seconds before finally digging his hand inside and pulling out a simple, grey hoodie. _So much for extravagant, huh_.

He makes a mental note to look through all the options when he has some free time.

Without any further ado, he hooks his heel around the door and pulls it further open, peeking at Jongho, who pushes himself off the wall with a quiet huff of _finally_. San doesn't really have it in him to feel offended.

"So, where are we going?"

The smile Jongho sends him in response is tightlipped and almost ridiculously ominous, despite what he says out loud, "just the kitchen. It's breakfast time, after all, everyone's already there," then, he winces, "maybe except Wooyoung. But he's unpredictable like that."

Unsure what to say, all San does is nod, as though he completely understands what Jongho means by that. Which, he doesn't. But he also doesn't dare ask.

  


  


What greets him first, as they enter the kitchen, is the sight of Hongjoong rummaging through the fridge, back turned to them, seemingly not in the greatest mood. His shoulders are stiff, as if he's holding himself back from cursing out loud, until finally he heaves a sigh, quickly followed by a, "God, Seonghwa, starshine, I was only gone for like, ten yearsㅡ I can't believe. Where are the stupid blood bags?"

"Eleven. Eleven years, Hongjoong," chimes in a familiar voice, and San briefly wonders where he knows it from, before his eyes land on a lanky figure sitting by the table. The bartender from yesterday, he's with them too? But then, yeah, San _does_ kind of remember Hongjoong mentioning Yunho before he fell asleep. If he tries enough, that is.

The words make Hongjoong stop for a second, "oh. Oh, okay, eleven it is. Thanks, Yunho."

A beat of silence, and the boy goes back to searching through the fridge. His back stiffens once more before he mumbles, "Seonghwa?"

"A little lower, in the back."

The answer seems to be enough for Hongjoong, as he only hums ㅡ and suddenly San _really_ doesn't want to chance a look towards the table again.

He's not sure why. Maybe he's a little bit scared. The man does seem kind of intimidating, even through his sharp looks alone, if not by his vampire nature. Or maybe he's just trying to ignore the fact how ridiculously attractive Seonghwa is.

Okay, it might actually be the latter. So what. San's always been good at denial.

It's then that Jongho finally clears his throat, signalling their arrival with a, "brought the baby Vamp," though only Hongjoong appears startled by that, compared to the vampire duo who silently nod.

Spinning around to face them, Hongjoong's face immediately lights up with a grin, a change so sudden San has to blink a few times to get used to it. It's like the entire room suddenly lit up, all thanks to Hongjoong's bright smile, directed straight at him.

"Oh, Sanㅡ good morning! Did you sleep well?"

"Uh," he fumbles with his words. _Eloquent as ever_ , his mind jabs, and he almost scowls but stops himself in time, because how awkward would it be to explain to the one, nicest person he's ever met, that he's not actually glaring daggers at _him_ , but at his stupid internal voice?

Yeah, he'll pass.

"Kinda, yeah? I guess?" he adds in, hoping not too much time has passed, "I mean, I kind of just knocked out, didn't even have any dreams, so it was okay. Nothing too wild."

At least Hongjoong seems satisfied with the answer, "good! That's always better than having nightmares, yeah?"

Yunho's smiling up at him from the table, and San can feel Seonghwa's stare burning the side of his head, but as he turns to glance at the blonde, murmuring a distracted _right_ , Seonghwa doesn't meet his eye.

Weird.

There's a light tap at his shoulder, bringing his attention back to Jongho, who tilts his head towards the table and doesn't wait for San's reaction, already making his way over. Confused, San hovers in place for a second more before following, taking a seat between Jongho and Yunho. The bartender's wide frame hides him from Seonghwa's gaze, as the blonde's sitting on his other side, and the fact makes him both relieved and ㅡ for some reason ㅡ disappointed.

Turning around in his seat, he glances back at Hongjoong.

The boy's still standing by the fridge, two plastic bags held carefully in his hands as he eyes them, a calculating look on his face. It's only now that San takes a proper look at Hongjoong, noticing the few stray locks of hair that point in different directions, the skin of his cheek imprinted as if he's barely woken up. Scratch that, maybe he actually did, for all that San knows.

The sight almost makes him coo.

"So," he starts, Hongjoong's eyes immeditaley snapping up to show he's paying attention, "what, exactly, are you doing?"

Hongjoong winces.

"I was gonna make you breakfast, but. I'm kind of out of practice," and San really has no idea what the other means by that, but no one at the table questions it, so he chooses to stay quiet and makes a mental note to ask sometime they're alone, "but fortunately, we have Yunho!"

The said boy sends him a grin when Hongjoong waves in his direction, "you can ask for anything really, if there's anything he's good at, it's making drinks."

At that, Yunho turns to Hongjoong with a playful glare.

"Hey," he counters, but it's clear that he's not actually mad, due to his eyes crinkling up at the corners, a clear sign he's trying to hold back a smile, "I'm good at a great variety of things, thank you very much."

San watches, fascinated, as Hongjoong's cheeks pink while he rolls his eyes. He feels as if there's some inside joke between them that he's missing, "yeah, yeah, whatever, you giant. Anyway, why is there so much food inside the fridge if the only person in this house in the past _decade_ that needs it to live is Wooyoung? I literally couldn't find the _one_ thing the three of you live off of!"

Interesting. Does that mean Wooyoung is the only human in this house? If he even _is_ a human. San's kind of afraid to ask.

Jongho's arm brushes against his as the boy shrugs, "you know how picky he is."

Hongjoong turns to deadpan at him, glancing inside the fridge again before locking his gaze with Seonghwa, "I guess you're right," and the expression he's wearing has San snickering, "but that also means more for me, then."

A beat of silence fills the room, and it's at that exact moment that San realizes how ridiculously comfortable he feels around the others. Sure, he barely knows any of them, not to mention he barely knows what they're even talking about half of the time, but for some reason, he finds himself not really minding that.

Maybe it's because they don't seem to mind his presence either. Neither Hongjoong nor Yunho seem to hold themselves back from joking around, while Seonghwa and Jongho have apparently already accepted his presence, even if they don't go out of their way to make him speak. As if they don't expect any explanation from him, instead opting to answer any of his questions and wait until he makes it clear, that he wants to adress the issue at hand ㅡ his future with or without them.

It's so stupidly considerate, for literally _no reason_. San's not sure what to think of it.

Before he has the time to over think this, though, the sound of a chair scraping against the floor brings him back to reality and his head snaps up just to see Yunho standing up, an empty cup in his hand.

"Do you have anything in mind?"

His eyes slide back up to Yunho's face, "what?"

The other is looking at him, amusement painted all over his face, but instead of laughing at him, Yunho only explains patiently, "for the drink. Do you want anything specific?"

"Oh," he huffs out, then takes a second to really consider it. Usually, he'd start a day off with a strong cup of coffee, but he guesses that's not going to happen ㅡ besides, they're already welcoming enough, he doesn't want to feel like a burden, "no, no, Iㅡ uh, whatever's the easiest to make, maybe?"

With a simple nod, Yunho slips away.

San hasn't noticed it before, but now that he actually pays it attention, both Yunho and Seonghwa must've started off their own breakfast without them ㅡ though only the former seems to be done with his. Either Yunho was a fast eater ㅡ or, uh, drinker in this case ㅡ or Seonghwa was purposefully taking his time.

Speaking of Seonghwa, now that Yunho has moved to speak with Hongjoong, there's no one sitting in between San and the blonde, and as San chances a side glance at Seonghwa, he has to do a double take.

Because as intriguing ㅡ but don't quote San on that ㅡ Seonghwa came off as, drinking what he assumes is blood from an actual _wine glass_ is on a whole, another level.

Suddenly, his mind is blank, because, seriously, what the _hell_.

"Just ignore it, Seonghwa's just edgy like that," he hears Jongho say from his other side, and he has to physically drag himself from staring at the drink carefully held in Seonghwa's grasp. When he finally manages to turn to face Jongho, the boy's face is still cautiously blank, if not even bored, but his eyes closely follow San's movements, as if it were the only interesting thing that's currently happening. But then, he guesses he is a new addition to the house, so it shouldn't feel as surprising as it does that Jongho actually seems curious about him.

"I thought only teenagers go through their emo phase though?" he murmurs back, dropping his voice to a whisper so hopefully Seonghwa isn't able to catch it.

Jongho's lips quirk up at that, before he huffs out a giggle, an _actual giggle_ , oh God ㅡ but then San feels someone's glare burning the back of his neck and he knows exactly who it belongs to.

"Uhㅡ is superior sense of hearing some other bullshit vampire superpower of yours, too?" he adds, his voice coming out embarrassingly high, and his heart drops to his stomach when Jongho nods, his eyebrows rised in amusement.

"O _kay_!"

His shoulders raised up enough to reach his ears, he feels even more embarrassed at the way his voice breaks as he slowly turns around in his chair. His eyes locked on the glass, he waits a moment before meeting Seonghwa's eye, jumping in his seat at the icy cold gaze.

"Someone's pissed off."

Jongho, he thinks, sounds way too gleeful at the fact. Especially when Seonghwa looks a second away from defenestrating him. Or cornobbling him. Or choking him, maybe, but San's never been into that kind of thing.

"I'm sorry?" he stutters out, and maybe Seonghwa doesn't say anything, and he's still scowling directly at San, but his tight grip on the drink in front of him loosens up the tiniest bit. San counts it as a win, "actually, wait, now I'm curiousㅡ how old are you?"

But Seonghwa's glare only hardens, and his voice drips with such bitterness San immediately regrets his words, "old enough."

Oh. Okay. So that's a sensitive topic, he thinks, and decides to drop it.

At least Yunho's here to stop him from saying or asking any wrong things, because the next thing he knows, there's a tall glass being gently placed in front of his face, accompanied by a low thud of a mug that Yunho lays next to it. Jongho sends him a funny look while reaching for the mug when San flinches, but fortunately no one comments on it. Snapping his head to the side, just enough to check that it is, indeed, Yunho, he inwardly chides himself for being so jumpy.

"Sorry," he mumbles, and he _knows_ Hongjoong is sending him that pitiful look again, he doesn't even need to look.

"It's okay," and that's it. They all drop it, just like that, for which San's actually really grateful, and not a second later Yunho's already speaking again, "I hope you liked the drink I made you at the bar, because it's the same thing again. Maybe with a little more Vitamin D, though."

He squints at the glass, "what?"

Whatever face he's making, Jongho must find it _hilarious_ , because the boy bursts into laughter again, which San ignores in order of glancing at Hongjoong, his eyebrows raised in a silent question.

He briefly notes how the other chose to stand behind Seonghwa's chair, hands resting on the blonde's shoulders, and San partly expects Seonghwa to scowl, but the Vampire doesn't seem to mind. An uneasy smile slips onto Hongjoong's lips, and he tucks his chin over Seonghwa's head, as if that would help him in explaining in any way, "well, remember when I called you a fledgling? You've only been fully turned, what, a day ago? Two days, maybe? Andㅡ"

He trails off, seemingly looking for the right words, and Yunho chimes in, "you're a baby Vamp!"

"Whatㅡ again, I am _not_ a baby!"

"You kind of are, though."

Everyone turns to face Seonghwa when he speaks up, only for the second time that morning ㅡ at least, for all that San knows. He's raised the wine glass up to his mouth, but doesn't actually take a sip, and San watches as the drink slowly twirls around in his hold, "in your current state, you're in need of far more blood than just your usual Vampire. You've been successfully turned, yes, but you need a more balanced diet. Fledglings are more prone to malnutrition."

Before he can bite his tongue, the words already slipped past his lips, "a balanced diet... of blood? How does that even work?"

He's too confused to even feel any kind of accomplishment when the corner of Seonghwa's mouth tilts up, "you know, we're actually pretty similiar to humans with anemia. We need those extra supplements."

"Except anemics don't drink blood."

Seonghwa juts out his lower lip, and if San didn't know better, he'd almost think the blonde is pouting, "fair enough."

Yunho clears his throat, "so, what are you waiting for? Drink up, baby Vamp!"

And San wishes he could say he glares at the other, but Yunho's too childishly excited for San to truly feel offended. So he does as he's told.

  


  


The thing about being the _new addition_ to the house, even if he's still hasn't decided whether he's planning on staying or not, is that everyone else except him actually have things to do.

Like, work things. Apparently.

Seonghwa and Hongjoong were the first to leave ㅡ it was with an apologetic look and an embarrassed smile that he mentioned it, said _I'm sorry, I completely forgot about it_. But San gets it, based on the amount of people around him, this thing, someone new appearing in their life, probably isn't really a day to day sight. So it's not like San could even hold it against him.

His drink wasn't even half empty yet, but Hongjoong already had a jacket thrown over his shoulder, Seonghwa having left his seat to wash the wine glass he used, before drying it with a towel and placing it on the top shelf.

(San eyed him for a beat, then locking his gaze with Yunho, who only shrugged in reply.

"He's a neat freak," he said, and San decided to leave it at that.)

After that, Yunho and Jongho followed suit. Not immediately, at least. The duo had the decency to stay until all of them finished breakfast, which included both Jongho and San, and Yunho's excited questions of _so, did you like it?_ after he's done with his drink were enough to distract him from the metallic taste.

But now he's alone, in the stupidly huge mansion, and he's left to curse the fact that he hasn't bothered to ask for any directions, or at least how to find his way through it.

He's not exactly sure if it really is a maze or if he's just lost because he's new. He wouldn't really be surprised if that were the case, the others don't seem bothered by it. But then, it might also be the fact that they're used to it ㅡ he really has no idea how long all of them have lived here.

And so, he wanders slowly through the hall, hand reached out and tracing the wall next to him. He notes the pleasant texture, the pale color of it that somehow manages to compliment the big windows adorning the wall, the feathery light curtains flowing down. For some reason, after hearing the word vampire, he's half expected to see heavy blinds and no access to light ㅡ yet the windows let a limited amount of sunlight to trickle inside, and as San slides his hand between the fabric, the light feels warm on his skin. But compared to what he remembers from his life prior, there's something different about it now. Something lacking.

As nice as the feeling is, a red flag whips at the back of his mind, because something about this is _wrong_.

Hesitantly, he retreats his hand, and lets the curtain cover the window again.

Taking a step back, he looks around the hall again, his eyes landing on the closest door, barely a few steps away. Curiosity fights with common sense in his mind, but the former wins, and he hesitates for only a second before making his way over.

Technically, the door doesn't really seem that different from all the others he has passed already, but something about it _feels_ different. He knows it.

Turning the knob, he lets it slowly drift open, and he's met with the sight of a bedroom. Contrary to his own, though, it's clearly taken, signs of life filling every corner, no matter if either by the mess of papers lying on the desk or the lone dress shirt draped over a chair.

Usually, he wouldn't really snoop around people's rooms, but there's something intriguing about this one, pulling him in, he doesn't even notice he's walked inside until he blinks and finds himself by the desk, the faint smell of ink filling his chest.

He takes a peek at the stack of papers, immediately disappointed when what greets him is writing in the alphabet he recognizes, but a language he doesn't know. He pouts, flipping through the pages, but gives up quickly ㅡ but right as he's about to back away, he notices a picture.

It's hidden under the pages, but the corner of it peeks out, as if asking to be pulled out. He stares back at it, uncertain, but makes up his mind and tugs at it lightly, as it slips from under the weight.

It's a picture of a ship. Not a modern one, though. It kind of looks like a replica, he thinks, something that you'd see in a pirate themed movie. It's not really that great of a picture, probably not taken by a professional photographer, and there's no person in sight. He guesses it's not meant to be a breathtaking photograph, then, but a simple reminder of the ship, the way it's build, maybe.

He has no idea what it would be needed for. Maybe one of them likes ships. Or the ocean. Or something.

Placing the photograph back down, he notes the compass laid just next to the papers, and thinks, yeah. That seems to be it.

Head snapping up, he glances around the room. It's fairly smaller than the one Hongjoong showed him yesterday, but it has a comfortable vibe about it. Whoever lives here must've taken years to truly decorate it to their liking, the walls adorned with taped pictures and a single cork board, filled to the brim with different drawings, slips of paper cut out of newspapers and a few hanged, shiny jewellery.

As his eyes slip down, he notes the shelf standing right under the board, loaded with heavy books and a bottles and jars of various sizes, though he can't really tell what's inside of them. To the side, he also can see a few scented candles.

The person has taste.

The last thing he looks at is the bed ㅡ the blankets neatly tucked, the few big pillows are scattered across the top of it, and it's actually kind of cute, when he really thinks about it.

Deciding he's seen enough, he finally backs out of the room.

But there's one thing that keeps bugging him. Whose bedroom was it? Out of all the people he's met up until now, it could be either of them. But he has to admit, the room had a certain, soft aura about it ㅡ and the only person he thinks fits it, would be Hongjoong.

But could it really be his? Wait, while he's at it, who even _is_ Hongjoong?

San wants to, tries to figure it all out. If Hongjoong isn't a vampire, nor a human, _what_ is he, then? He's mentioned being gone for over a decade, but for what? What did he mean by that?

The empty hall doesn't gift him with an answer.

  


  


The moment the hall stopped extending forward and bent to the side in a gentle curve, he knew there was something waiting for him at the end of it, something he needed to check out for the sake of his own satisfaction.

That's why he wasn't surprised at all when he saw the entrance to anything that couldn't possibly be a bedroom or a simple living room, based alone on the fact of how big the doors are compared to all the others he saw on his way there.

Casting a careful look around, he doesn't even know what, exactly, he's searching for, but it feels like the right thing to do ㅡ and he turns back to face it when he doesn't find anything.

With a sharp nod, he steps closer, letting his hand rest on the handle.

The door feels heavy under his touch, and it doesn't even budge the first time he tries to push it open. He scowls, kicking at it before he has the time to realize it's really not that good of an idea, and curses under his breath when it changes nothing. Except for his foot hurting now, that is.

But he's set on seeing what's behind the door, so he tries to push it open again, this time using his shoulder, and only after a few minutes of struggling does it finally click open ㅡ also managing to startle him in the process.

Stumbling back, he stares at the door for solid five seconds, waiting until his anxiety spikes down, before laying his palm flat on the surface of it and pushing it further.

It doesn't make a sound, which he's glad for, and just as there's enough space for him to slip inside, he does exactly that, letting the door fall closed behind him.

Glancing back to make sure it really did shut, he lifs his head to look around the room, and his breath promptly gets punched out of his lungs.

Because the room is _huge_. That's not really shocking, when he reminds himself it is a mansion, after all, but what really gets to him is the fact that it's, unmistakably, a library. A huge library. What kind of Alexandria shitㅡ

He gawks at the rows and rows of bookshelves, holding himself back from running up to them and just, touching everything, just to make sure it's actually real and not some hallucination, but thenㅡ wait. It that a person lying on top of one of the bookshelves?

He blinks, once, twice, before squinting up at the figure. He can't quite tell all of the stranger's features, but the one thing he knows is that the person seems pretty amused, holding a book above their head ㅡ which can't possibly be comfortable, doesn't that hurt their wrists at all? ㅡ with their legs swinging freely in the air and San is. Confused.

Maybe he shouldn't have stepped inside, after all. Maybe it was a really, really stupid idea. How dumb of him. Is he even welcome in here? He's not sure, but at the same time, he doesn't really want to find out.

Having made up his mind, he's a second away from backing away, but then his shoe grits against the wooden floor and the stranger's eyes immediately lock with his andㅡ oh.

His heart leaps up to his throat as the stranger stares right back at him, unblinking, for approximately ten seconds before they let their arms rest on their chest, the book nested carefully in between, and a nonchalant smile slowly finds its place on their lips.

Then it strucks him. Is _this_ the Wooyoung the others have told him about?

_(Right before Jongho left the kitchen, he stopped in his tracks and turned to stare pointedly at San._

_"What?" he prompted, one of his eyebrows quirked up. The boy was visibly torn between what he should say, and San noted how his eyes flit from his frame, to the hall, supposedly at Yunho, and back to meet his gaze. Then, his face returned to the practiced, carefully blank expression, and from that San knew, whatever Jongho was about to say, it was serious._

_"If you meet Wooyoung, _do not_ answer any of his riddles."_

_"Whatㅡ"_

_A single look at Jongho's stiff shoulders silenced him, "it's for your own good."_

_With that, he closed the door, and San was left to question whether he really was as safe inside the mansion as he first thought.)_

"What brings you here?"

He squints, "is that a trick question?"

The stranger huffs out a laugh, curling in on himself as his shoulders shake from the full body laughter ㅡ but he calms down rather quickly, stretching over the top of the bookshelf lazily, his head hanging upside down due to lack of space, and he tips it back to properly look at San, "you're funny. I like that."

San really doesn't know what he's even supposed to reply to something like that.

That's why he only keeps staring at the other, his mouth opening and closing for a beat too long as he finds no words that could possibly string a sentence that would actually make any sense. But the stranger doesn't hurry him up, only blinks at him slowly, vaguely reminding San of a cat, as ridiculous as that might sound.

Finally, he says, "who are you?" and pats himself on the back in his mind, but the satisfaction quickly fades as the stranger's smile widens.

"A curious one, aren't you?"

_Why would I ask you anything otherwiseㅡ_ god damn it. The stranger looks so smug, and usually, he'd probably think the expression suits him, makes him look kind of cute, even. But right now, San only wants answers, and the only thing he's getting back is only even more questions, and does he really have to be so specific to get things the way he wants?

"What's your name?" he tries instead, and watches as the other quirks up one of his eyebrows, as if only now paying attention to what he's saying, and he slowly turns to lay on his stomach instead, his book long forgotten on the side of the shelf.

He drags his eyes up and down San's body, and San gets the feeling the other is actually trying to remember his features. For some reason, the fact makes him feel accomplished.

"Wooyoung."

_Bingo._

"Hello, Wooyoung. I'm San," he replies carefully, though the tension in his shoulders fades a little as the other only nods, "Jongho told me to be wary of you."

The words earn him a chuckle so quiet, he almost doesn't even register it, barely a huff of air, and it's such a contrast from the way Wooyoung laughed so openly just minutes ago, he almost can't believe this is the same person.

"Of course he would," the boy mutters, and despite the cheerful tone of his voice, the words sound bitter, and for a brief second San wonders whether there's any unresolved tension between the two. But then Wooyoung's eyes flit to meet his gaze again, and judging by his expression, he seems moderately curious, "do you get along?"

Confused, he replies with, "is there any catch, too?"

But the other only rolls his eyes at him, "no, I'm just genuinely curious."

And for the record, there's not a hint of sarcasm in his voice, so San relaxes again, "I, uh, I only met him this morning, so I'm not sure," because that's true, he hasn't really known _any_ of them for too long yet, "but he seems... nice."

Wooyoung snickers.

"It's okay, you can say grumpy."

"Okay, he does seem pretty grumpy," he admits, "but he's not so bad."

And Wooyoung only hums, as if satisfied by his answer, "good. I hoped you'd like him," he turns his head to the side for a moment, and San almost thinks the other deemed that the end of the conversation. But before he has the time to move, though, Wooyoung crawls down the side of the bookshelf, jumping down when he's gotten low enough not to hurt himself due to the fall, and pats his clothes clean of any imaginary dust. Then, he lifts his head, and sends San an easy, but considerably small, smile.

"You look lost," he comments, watching with amusement in his eyes as San scratches at the back of his neck, uneasy.

"That's because I _am_ lost," he mumbles eventually. Cheeky, but Wooyoung doesn't seem to mind.

"It's okay, I'll show you the way back. We've still got time before anyone gets back, though, so if you have any questions, I can answer them now."

"How do you even knowㅡ"

But Wooyoung cuts him off, "you're new, obviously a fledling, and you look confused about literally anything that's mentioned," he shrugs, "it's easy to tell."

Which, okay. That's fair enough for San.

He glances at the floor, self-conscious, before meeting Wooyoung's eyes again. The boy tilts his head to the side, prompting for a reply, "so? Ask away."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so, what do u think? please do tell djhsjd any feedback would be Greatly appreciated tbh  
> also, i'm @starryhwa on tumblr, if u want to hmu!!


	3. be with you,

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm honestly too tired to beta this right now, so i hope there aren't many typos gkshdjjd
> 
> anyway, i hope y'all like this chapter!!

"Uh... can we move somewhere more, um, comfortable, first?"

Wooyoung tilts his head to the side at the words, clearly confused, and that's enough for San to rush and explain himself, "I mean, I've been up since breakfast and I think my legs would really appreciate it if I sat down for a hot second, but not that I'm tired or anything I justㅡ"

When he sees the amused look the other is sending him, he cuts himself off, embarrassed by his own rambling. At least Wooyoung's nice enough not to mention it. Instead, the boy nudges his arm with his own elbow and casually says, "come on, there's a nice place just a few steps away."

San really has no idea where this _nice place_ could be in a library, of all places, but then, he guesses it might just be the huge bookshelves that hide it from view. And Wooyoung's already shuffling ahead, so it's not like San has any choice except to follow him.

His assumption turns out to be right, because it really is as close as the other made it to be. As they walk further inside, the rows of bookshelves give way to a wooden table that fits the length of the entire room. To the side of it, a fireplace ㅡ which San thinks isn't a good addition to a library until he notices the flames aren't actually real, but a screen ㅡ circled by two old, but cozy-looking armchairs. Convenient.

Almost suspiciously convenient.

He squints at the (fake) fireplace. It does add this certain, comfortable vibe, and it's safe around books, clearly it's been carefully thought through ㅡ by who, he wonders.

Stepping closer, he brushes his hand over the back of one of the armchairs, before sinking into the plush seat. He's pleasantly surprised to find it does not only _look_ cozy, it feels the same way, too.

"That's Seonghwa's seat," Wooyoung chimes from beside him, and San stiffens.

Turning to face the other, he doesn't even bother hiding the spike of panic the words fill him with, "should i... move, then?"

But Wooyoung only waves his hand dissmisively as he takes a seat across from him, "nah. As long as he doesn't know, you're fine," and a smug smile creeps onto his face. That's far from reassuring, he thinks.

"You're making it sound as if you do things you're not supposed to on a daily basis."

A shrug, "it's not fun otherwise."

And San can't argue with that. Not because he agrees with the statement, no, it's just the fact he'd rather not get on Wooyoung's bad side. There's something off-putting in his lazy grins and cryptic behaviour.

"So," he starts, but drifts off when he realizes he doesn't know what to begin with. Doesn't even know what to ask. He's so confused about the entirety of it, he's not even sure what to focus on.

"So," the other mimics, one eyebrow quirking up. Okay. This is awkward.

Recalling the entirety of their conversation, he remembers the person Wooyoung's mentioned first ㅡ Jongho. Before he can overthink this, he blurts out the question that's been bothering him the whole day, "how old is Jongho? He kinda looks like a kid."

The words earn him a chuckle, "oh, believe me, he's an old man," scrunching his nose, Wooyoung corrects himself, "I mean, he's younger than the rest of us, but compared to you? He could be like, your grandpa."

It's a bit hard to believe, at least until he remembers the boy's grumpy attitude from this morning. That's a grandpa, alright, "so why does he look like _that_?"

It's then that something in Wooyoung's gaze changes, his face suddenly a lot more grim rather than amused.

"He's," pausing, he licks his lips, as if looking for the right way to word it, "I can't tell you the details, it's not my place to say, but... he's been turned when he was only nineteen."

_What the fuck_ , "nineteen?"

The boy nods, "yeah. On a lighter note, that paired with his baby face makes people assume he's like, fifteen or whatever, so we always have to follow him places for _adult supervision_ ," his lips stretch into a wide grin again, "it _infuriates_ him. Like, he looks a second away from stabbing someone every time."

That's both kind of sad but also hilarious to imagine, and San can't stop himself from laughing. Wooyoung doesn't waste his time joining in.

It's strange, when he really thinks about it. He's sitting in a stranger's chair, in another stranger's presence, a second away from laughing his lungs out about the idea of pissing off a vampire that was unfortunate enough to get turned as a teenager and is now stuck looking like one for the rest of his unfortunate, immortal life. But then, are they all really strangers anymore? All of them ㅡ they might not be close yet, not to San, but he feels like they could. If he stays here, if they spend enough time around each other ㅡ San feels like they really could.

He's not sure what to think of that fact just yet.

"Also. All this talk about vampires, fledglings, getting turnedㅡ I don't even understand most of it," he admits after they've both calmed down. Because it's true. He feels as if he's back in school, surprised by an exam that everyone else's known about and now he has to manage his way through it, "are there like, any basics I should know?"

Wooyoung considers him for a moment, lips pursed into a pout as he thinks, "depends. What do you know, and what don't you?"

"I," he stutters, because hey, what even, "How am I even supposed to know what, exactly, I don't know?"

A beat of silence, Wooyoung turns to glare at the floor, hums, glares some more, "okay, fair point."

The face the boy's pulling is pretty much hilarious, and it takes everything in him not to start laughing again. At least Wooyoung's quick to distract him, face lighting up again and he claps once, but fairly loud, to get San's attention, "okay, vampire class 101!"

San bites back a comment, nodding for the other to go on.

"So, Vamps. Those edgy, overgrown mosquitoes," he cuts himself off, wincing, "uh, no offence, I guess, since you're one now, too," not that San felt offended in the first place. It's funny and it fits, so he can't bring himself to feel bad about it, "the obvious part, y'all need blood to live. Food isn't necessary for you, though you can still eat it if you'd want to. Not that I'd advice you to, apparently it doesn't taste the same for your kind? From what I've gathered," smacking his lips, he adds, "sucks to be you."

"I guess," he says, because it's not like he has any idea on just how big the difference is, not yet at least, he's still yet to try anything not based on blood since he's been turned. Now, he kind of dreads the moment he gets to try, "wait, from what you've gathered?"

The boy shrugs, "you know, living in the same house as a bunch of your kindㅡ you start noticing some interesting things after a while."

San kind of wants to ask what he means by _interesting_ , but at the same time? He's not sure if he really wants to know the answer.

"Before you ask how we get the blood you need ㅡ we have our ways," with that, his lips pull into a smirk, and San's suddenly reminded of Jongho's warning, and the fact that he probably shouldn't be feeling too comfortable around the other. But it disappears as quickly as it appeared, and Wooyoung goes on, "I mean, not all of the blood we get is from humans. Most of it, yeah, but not all. Though most popular way to get it is through blood donations," he pointedly ignores San's eyebrows furrowing, isn't that kind of shady? "Vamps have connections with the other supernatural polycules, you'll probably hear of our friendly neighbourhood non-humans such as Monsta or Strays? Both of these groups live the closest to us."

At that moment, San's a second away from speaking up. The last part didn't clear anything up, if anything, it only gave him even more questions ㅡ but before he can do that, Wooyoung's eyes widen and he blurts out, "oh! I almost forgot. You've probably guessed by now what a fledgling is. Turning into one, though, it's kinda nasty. Takes around a whole week to fully turn."

The image of the empty alley pops into his mind, the one he fled into after successfully getting away from his abuser. He's been so confused as to how much time has passed, before, but now he thinks he knows the answer. It seems kind of possible, for him to knock out for such a long time, even if it does sound a bit ridiculous. It wouldn't really explain the state of his house, but then, he guesses he must've been kidnapped for way longer than he first thought.

Pinching his arm, he forces himself to tune back into the conversation.

"And if you die before you fully turn," Wooyoung drifts off, turning his head away and avoiding eye contact, as if it's something he'd rather not talk about. A sensitive topic, maybe? Has it happened here, before? Has Wooyoung witnessed it?

"What happens then," he starts again, wetting his lips in what San assumes is a nervous habit, "I. I think you should ask Hongjoong that."

_Hongjoong?_

"Why him?"

Still not meeting his eye, Wooyoung's voice drops almost to a whisper as he replies, "you could say he has some... personal experiences with that situation."

And that's all the explanation he gets. He's really just this close to pulling at his hair in frustration.

He still has enough self control, at least, so he keeps his mouth shut and nods, just to let Wooyoung know he got it. Then, silence fills the space between them, almost too comfortable for the kind of conversation they're having, and San let's himself lean back into the armchair, finally relaxing for the first time since he's been told whom, exactly, it belongs to.

"San," Wooyoung's voice echoes the slightest bit through the room, breaking the spell. There's something hesitant in the way he glances at San before asking, "how were you turned?"

Slowly, he feels a chill creep up his spine.

At the words, he's reminded of fingers on his skin, rough hands pulling at his hair. Of bruises on his neck and sharp teeth sinking into flesh. The dull ache of his chest as it filled with the stink of sweat and dried blood. He doesn't want to remember any of it, but once he's recalled it, the memory refuses to leave his mind.

And he tries to answer, he really does, but his throat closes up, and all that he manages to spit out is, "Iㅡ I don't wanna talk about it."

From the corner of his eye, he can see Wooyoung's about to speak up, but after a second the boy clamps his mouth shut, as if he thought better of voicing his thoughts. Instead, he nods, slow and his concerned gaze burns at the side of San's face.

"Okay."

It's just one simple word, but it's enough for San's shoulders to lose their tension. His breath stutters, and he sighs, out of habit. Relief seems to seep in, from his chest to the tips of his fingers as he relaxes, even if confused by how easily the other let it go.

"Okay?" he prompts, as if Wooyoung would suddenly change his mind. But the boy only nods again, before standing up, "yeah, that's it. Okay. You don't have to tell me, if that would make you uncomfortable," he shrugs, acting as if it's nothing, but despite it all, San can't help but feel the inkling of trust for the other that starts to root itself in his mind.

Wooyoung bounces on his heels, reaching his hand out to help San stand up, and it's as if there's so much energy trapped inside of him all of sudden, in contrast to how relaxed, borderline lazy he seemed up to now, "anyway, I'm sure someone got back home by now, and I'm, like, this close to losing my mind if we don't start moving right now, so what do you say, I'll show you the way back now?"

Wooyoung's behaviour seems to change so quickly, with no warning, San thinks he's going to get whiplash. But he doesn't comment on it, instead taking the other's hand with a nod, and the boy pulls him up with such ease that suggests either Wooyoung is stronger than he looks, or San's lost a lot of weight since last time he's checked, back when he was still human. He almost collides straight into Wooyoung's chest, for crying out loud. Both of the options seem possible, but San chooses not to dwell on it as Wooyoung steadies him before taking a step back, "and we're off!"

  


  


The heavy door locks behind them with a hollow _thud_ , as they step out of the library, and he can't help himself but scowl at it, reminded of the pain that shot through his foot at the contact with it. Wooyoung must notice his obvious glares, because he can hear a faint chuckle before there's a light pat at his shoulder.

Turning to blink at the other, he hopes his stare is questioning enough. Seems like it, at least, as Wooyoung comments off-handedly, "'s okay. You're not the only one to hold a grudge against this old thing," and with that, he goes ahead, leaving San rooted in spot, eyeing the other's back. Stomping down the confusion, he shakes himself out of it and skips over, stopping just by Wooyoung's side to move along.

It takes him about four minutes of silence between them to finally decide he can't stand it, "so."

Wooyoung glances at him from the corner of his eye, but quickly turns to stare ahead, as if bored again, "we've been through this."

San isn't sure if it's meant to chide him for being awkward or if it's an attempt at a joke, so he assumes the former and huffs, "whatever."

But then he sees Wooyoung's lips quirk up and the boy looks at him again, "no, no, just kidding. What was that you were going to say?"

"Oh," so it was just a joke, after all. San's either really bad at reading people or he's gotten out of practice, "you know, everyone left, but no one really explained where they went, so... I'm just, curious, I guess."

The other hums, prolonging the silence that falls between them, as if he's carefully thinking the distinguished question through. But San can see the playful glint in his eyes, and he's sure Wooyoung's just playing with him, choosing to wait until San admits it to be a question, "you're curious, huh."

A whine, "just please tell me."

That's all it takes for the boy to fully grin, though he still looks a bit smug as he replies, "well, Yunho's a bartender, so I'm sure he left for work. We all know he doesn't really like alone time, so usually one of us trails after him, to keep him some company," pursing his lips, he seems to ponder for a second, "that's probably what Jongho did today. It's not that we take turns, per se, not officially at least, but yeah, it was Jongho's turn today," San can't stop himself from rolling his eyes in time, and Wooyoung swats at his shoulder in mock offense, "anyway. Hongjoong only got back here like, a few days ago, so he has to get his life in order again. He and Seonghwa probably went looking to find him a job or something."

San files the information away in his mind, making a mental note to ask Hongjoong later why he was gone in the first place, "what about Seonghwa, though? Does he have a job?"

Wooyoung turns to send him a smirk, "wouldn't you like to know."

He's going to murder Wooyoung one day.

"Yes," he stresses the word out, "yes, frankly, I would."

He's not sure why Wooyoung's staring at him like that, as if searching his entire face, his expression for something, something that San can't put his finger on. After a second, the boy hums ㅡ San isn't sure whether he's found whatever he was looking for, or not, "Yes, he does. Why do you think would we live in an actual _mansion_ , otherwise?" trailing off, he doesn't meet San's gaze as he adds in, "it's kind of, a _specific_ work, though. He hasn't been called in for the last few days, and hopefully he won't be in the nearest future."

"Why? Is it like, dangerous?"

Wooyoung's lips twist visibly, his eyebrows furrowing the slightest bit, "Iㅡ yeah, I guess, you could say that."

A part of San wants to dwell further, to question what it is the said vampire does for a loving, in what way it could be dangerous, really. But another part of him, the slightly more rational one, knows better than to do that, so instead he asks the first thing that comes to his mind, to change the topic, "why did you take me in, anyway? It's not like any of you actually know me, yet neither Hongjoong nor Yunho hesitated when they offered to let me stay with you," he stops, nibbling at his lips, before admitting, "it's been... bugging me."

A second passes, but before Wooyoung can reply, he adds in again, "and when Hongjoong realized I'm a fledgling, heㅡ he seemed worried, for some reason."

"He did?"

Despite the words, Wooyoung doesn't look surprised. Quite the opposite, actually, it's as if he's been expecting it, and the fact does nothing to help him calm down. Hesitating only for a beat, he nods, uncertain of what he wants the other to say, and what he doesn't want to hear.

But whatever San was hoping for, it wasn't for Wooyoung's expression to darken even more, before turning to send him an unexpectedly pitiful smile, "yeah... here's the thing."

Just by looking at the crease in between Wooyoung's eyebrow, seeing the resigned glint of his eye, San can tell that what the boy is about to say isn't going to be too positive, "newly turned Vamps, you could say they are, kind of... vulnerable," why is it that every time things get serious, Wooyoung never meets his eye? "There are some thing out there that would gladly get rid of vampires. Different predators, the few but skilled hunters... they'll take every chance they get to erase you. A fledgling would be way easier to get rid of than an older vampire, obviously, so. I think It's fair to say that them letting you in here wasn't just a random act of kindness."

When Wooyoung glances at him again, he's still smiling in that same, pitiful way. It almost hurts to look at.

This time, it's San that looks away ㅡ they don't speak again for the rest of the walk.

  


  


Stepping back inside the kitchen feels as if he's just returned from a great adventure. Except this great adventure was only him getting lost in the mansion for hours, stumbling into a ridiculously huge library and meeting the one person he hoped he wouldn't.

Maybe even if it isn't a great, great adventure, he sure feels as tired as if he's just went on one.

The kitchen is, in fact, already occupied, by one Jongho at that. San has to admit, he's kind of hoped Hongjoong would be here, but he's glad to finally see someone he's met before, even if only once.

The boy seems pretty lost in thought, sitting by the table as he twrils a spoon in his hand absentmindedly, and he doesn't even notice them coming in until San slides into the seat next to him, slouching over the table when he feels just how exhausted he really is.

Jongho turns to face him, eyes flicking up to Wooyoung when he notices the other's precence, "oh, San? You're alive."

"Why do you sound so surprised?" he mutters back, deadpan, and Jongho only shrugs in reply, as if it's a completely normal thing to say.

"You know, Wooyoung here is a sphinx, so if you answered a riddle wrong, you wouldn't be the first fledgling to get eaten by him."

A sphinx. _A sphinx_. Scratch that, as much as it's the last thing he's expected at a Vampire mansion, the last bit of the sentence didn't sound like something you'd say with such a passive expression. Jongho even has the audacity to pout as he adds, "a shame. It's not often that baby Vamps come around. I'd miss you if you were to get killed."

A beat of silence, "well, that would surely be unfortunate," he scowls, trying and failing to keep the sarcasm from his voice. At least Jongho only seems amused, instead of offended, so San counts that as a win.

He can vaguely hear the sound of feet shuffling on the floor, before the fridge opens. Compared to Hongjoong that morning, Wooyoung seems to find whatever he's looking for almost immediately; he still makes a disgusted sound from the back of his throat, though, and San's just curious enough to tilt his head and steal a glance at the other.

"Ugh, blood."

He's not sure whether they're meant to hear it or not, as Wooyoung's voice drops when he says it, and he's glaring at the bag he's holding, clearly uneasy as he takes out a cup. Flicking the cap off the bag, he pours the content of it into the aforementioned cup, grimacing the entire time.

"You literally eat people in your free time," he hears Jongho snap from his side, and Wooyoung locks his glare on the boy.

"Hey, it's not _in my free time_. It's only if they're dumb enough," he corrects, shaking the, now empty, blood bag as if to make a point, "besides, it's sphinx nature. Just because I have to do it, doesn't mean I like it."

Baffled at the exchange, San blinks owlishly before speaking up, "Wooyoung... are you squeamish?"

Jongho murmurs a _yes_ just as Wooyoung makes a disapproving grunt, and the latter sends Jongho a stink eye again, "maybe so."

Blinking again, the corners of his lips tilt up as he blurts out, "that's surprisingly cute."

And it's now his turn to be at the end of Wooyoung's frown, "shut up."

He does. Not because he's nice like that, no, he's just unsure whether Wooyoung and him are already in such friendly terms that he gets a free pass to tease him or not. And overstepping his boundaries is the last thing he wants to do right now.

Jongho and Wooyoung don't seem hesitant to tease each other, though.

"What, can't stand the sight of blood, baby kitten?" Jongho picks up where San's left off, dropping the spoon he's been playing with up to now into the empty mug before him. He's raised his eyebrow challengingly, a hint of a smirk on his lips.

"Sphinxes are part _lion_ , not kittens," the other corrects. With a quick look over, San can confirm that despite their conversation, Wooyoung looks exactly like a human to him, but then, he has no idea how sphinxes work. Maybe they've adapted to look like their prey? Or maybe it's just an illusion. Yet another thing San has to find out somewhere in the future.

"Lions, kittens, isn't that basically the same thing?"

Crossing his arms in front of his chest, Wooyoung fires back, "shut up, you're like twelve."

That's exactly when San's glad Jongho isn't holding that spoon anymore, because he clenches his fists so tightly, it would probably break in half if it wasn't already out of his hold, "you know very well I am _not_ , nor do I look like, I'm twelve."

Wooyoung's eyes glint, pleased with himself, and San can't help but be reminded of a cat that's just pushed a glass off the edge of a table, a second away from it crashing, "oh, sorry, I forgot. You were turned when you were, what, seventeen?"

Now Wooyoung's just fucking with Jongho, San's sure of it. He knows the exact age Jongho was when turned, told it to San like an hour ago, so there's no way he simply _forgot_.

And now San knows he wasn't joking about Jongho, because the boy's looking at Wooyoung as if he's already contemplating the best way to murder him and get away with it, "I. Was. Nineteen."

Rising his eyebrows, Wooyoung huffs out, "sure you were," and it's the last straw, apparently, as the Vampire straight up leaps at him, taking them both down onto the ground.

San can only watch, stunned into place, as they roll, both trying to get at each other's throats, even though he's sure it's only just them being playful, based on the delighted look on Wooyoung's face.

That's... certainly, a way to show affection.

It's then that the door of the kitchen opens again, Hongjoong and Seonghwa slipping inside, and freezing only for a second when they see the scene before them. San look up at them, unsure what to do as the room fills with muffled curses from both Jongho and Wooyoung, and Hongjoong's the first to move.

Carefully stepping over the fighting duo, as if it's just a daily occurrence (is it?), he reaches over to grab the cup Wooyoung's prepared just moments ago, before turning to San, "you didn't eat yet, right?"

Still frozen in place, San can only shake his head slowly in reply, as Hongjoong walks over to him, placing the drink in front of him.

"I, uh... I don't know what you like," the boy admits, staring down at the blood that only fills half of the cup, "do you want some, uh, milk, with it? Or something?"

The thing is, San doesn't want to ask for too much, but he's also unsure if he want to drink the blood alone just yet. As if that would change something major in his life, something that he's not ready for yet, so in the end, he just replies, "yeah... milk sounds good."

And Hongjoong nods with a smile, before turning around and once again stepping over Wooyoung and Jongho who are still busy with their wrestling match.

Left alone again, San does the only thing that comes to mind, and turns to glance at Seonghwa.

The vampire is still standing by the door frame, nose scrunched as he presumably thinks over his options, clearly conflicted. He doesn't spare San a look, his eyes locked on the mess of limbs that is Wooyoung and Jongho, and finally, he heaves a sigh before making his way over.

Seonghwa picks up the oblivious duo by the shirt collars at their back, both still trying to swipe at each other until they notice the _not surprised, just disappointed_ look Seonghwa's giving them. It has to be practiced, San thinks, it's too effective not to be, and when Seonghwa places them back on their own feet, they don't try anything again, only choosing to send each other a stink eye.

It's kind of a hilarious sight. San almost laughs out loud, if not for Hongjoong appearing by his side again, pouring the milk into his cup with a concentrated expression. With his eyebrows furrowed, San has the urge to smooth out the wrinkle between them, but fortunately has enough self control not to do it.

Seemingly done, Hongjoong looks up and steals the spoon Jongho's been using before, using it to mix the drink, and San can't hold back a smile as he pokes at Hongjoong's hand until he retreats it, glancing at San in a silent question.

"It's okay, I can do it," he explains, his chest tightening at the tiny smile the words earn him.

The boy takes a seat across from San, and it doesn't take long until the rest settles down, too, Jongho back at the seat he's been using before the whole fight, and Seonghwa choses to sit beside Hongjoong, immediately scooting his chair over and resting his head on the other's shoulder. No one comments on it, and Seonghwa doesn't even react when Hongjoong reaches up, gently playing with the hair at the back of his neck. Except for the tiny pleased hum that rumbles out of his throat, but no one pays any attention to it, either.

It's only San that squints at the interaction, confused. Seonghwa didn't strike him as someone to openly act clingy, more like someone that avoids any physical contact if possible.

As if sensing San's stare, Seonghwa pointedly avoids his eyes, too, curling in on himself as if trying to hide and it isn't until Jongho jabs at San's ribs that he looks away, just to glare at the boy.

But Jongho's looking at him as if trying to say something through his gaze alone, making a point to tap his finger against San's jaw and turn his face away from Seonghwa, and what would that even meanㅡ

Wait. Is Seonghwa _shy_ about showing affection? Is that why they're all, except for the one at the end of it, ignoring it?

As Jongho slowly retreats his hand, he makes sure that San doesn't immediately look at Seonghwa again, and after a second San turns his attention to the drink before him, quietly bringing it to his lips.

And it's not as good as what Yunho's made him before, but it's enough for San to feel relieved. It's as if the exhaustion he's felt is slowly slipping away, the tension at his back smoothing out and he exhales slowly through his nose at the experience.

Wait, that's right. Yunho. Why isn't he here with everyone?

Putting his drink down, he ignores the light _clink_ and asks, "where's Yunho, anyway?"

"He's probably feeling emo again."

The sound of Wooyoung's voice almost startles him, as it doesn't come from around the table, but from his side, and he turns to look at the boy, who's made himself comfortable on top of the counter.

"What do you mean?" he mumbles back.

The other only shrugs, tilting his head in Jongho's direction, "man, I don't know, ask the guy that was actually with him before."

And despite his confusion, he does turn to face Jongho again.

"He's by the river," the boy explains, and Hongjoong hums thoughtfully before speaking, "waiting for him, again?"

_For who?_

But Jongho only nods, quick and to the point, before his eyes flit to San and his face lights up, "wait, I've got an idea," he blurts out, continuing when San quirks an eyebrow at him, "San, you haven't been to the river yet, right? Did you leave the house today?"

Slowly, he shakes his head, wondering where Jongho's going with this, "do you want to?"

  


  


And that's how he finds himself trailing along the narrow footpath, cursing under his breath as he slips on the wet grass, but manages to stay upright.

Apparently they live far enough on the side of the town that the walk to the closest river only takes about fifteen minutes, but it takes him probably way more time than necessary to actually move ahead. It's already dark outside, enough to confuse him as he walks down the unknown path, and he's not sure why anyone would willingly go there. Yunho's either really determined to meet that _someone_ he's apparently waiting for, or the sight of the river must be worth the trouble.

And sure, maybe Jongho showed him all the way towards the footpath, but after they've found it the boy left him alone, saying he's already close and it would be a miracle for him not to find Yunho at this point. That doesn't change the fact that San's still scared of getting lost again.

His luck with that's been pretty bad lately, so he wouldn't be too surprised it that were the case.

Instead, the tall grass seems to disperse the further he goes, and soon he finds himself walking beside the said river.

And yeah, it might, actually, have all been worth it. Because now that San's wandering along the stream, he can see the starry night above reflecting in the water as it unhurriedly swims ahead, and the sight fills him with a certain emotion that he can't find a name for.

Then, he notices a shadow of a silhouette, and he squints at it for a second before he realizes it's exactly who he's been searching for.

Taking small, slow steps ahead, he takes his time looking the boy over. His eyes are locked on the water, and San isn't sure whether it's longing, nostalgia or hope, they're filled with. Maybe all at the same time, for all that San knows.

He almost looks... wistful.

Finally standing by the other, he keeps silent as he sits down next to him, and neither turn to face each other as they stare down at the river.

Somehow, it feels like something important. As if San's witnessing a scene he wasn't exactly supposed to. But Yunho doesn't seem uncomfortable by San's presence, quite the opposite, even ㅡ it's like he's letting San join in, for whatever exactly it is.

Other than the sound of running water, it's quiet. Until Yunho opens his mouth to speak.

But his voice is still hushed, as if he's whispering to show respect towards the peaceful night, as if it would shatter if he spoke any louder, "it's ironic, how much someone's absence can hurt, even if you know for a fact they're coming back eventually."

San can only hum in reply. The words don't drip with bitterness, nor anything close to it. If anything, Yunho only sounds sad. But the kind of sad that one's already gotten used to, the kind that's almost expected from them. And San's never experienced anything like this, like what Yunho's talking about, so he doesn't really know what it's like, but showing sympathy is the least he could do.

Glancing at the other from the corner of his eye, he's not sure how to approach this. He kind of wants to circle his arm around Yunho, but he doesn't know if the boy would be okay with that, so he chooses to play it safe.

"Who is it?" he ends up replying, careful to keep his voice as quiet as Yunho did, and adds in, "the person you're waiting for, I mean."

The corner of Yunho's lips tilts up, but the smile he's directing at the water looks almost sad.

"His name is Mingi," he murmurs after a beat, still not meeting San's gaze. His eyes glaze over, as if he's stuck deep in his own thoughts, or maybe his memories, "he's... someone close to me, you could say. We haven't seen each other in a long time now, though."

"I'm sorry to hear that."

It's then that Yunho turns to face him, the smile remaining on his lips, "no, no. It's okay. I just... miss him," he fiddles with the grass they're sitting on, his legs swinging above the water, something he doesn't even seem to notice he's doing, "Mingi's a siren, so it's not like I didn't expect this."

San lets out a surprised hum before he even realizes he's doing it, "a siren?"

"Yeah," the smile on Yunho's face only seems to widen as he talks about Mingi. They really must be close, then, if he seems happy just to be speaking of him, "do you know about them?"

Sheepishly, he murmurs, "no, not really."

But Yunho only reaches out to pat his palm lightly, "hey, it's okay. Sirens are one of the merfolk. They're kinda different than most of them, though," he sounds confident of his own words, and San has half the mind to wonder just how much he knows about the Mer, "take a mermaid, for example. They're more social, but waterbound. Sirens aren't as social, usually they wander alone, and unlike mermaids, they grow legs on land, only changing back when they come in contact with water."

San nods for him to continue, genuinely interested in what Yunho has to say, and the other seems happy about the fact, "but... not being waterbound doesn't mean they can just leave their home forever. They're still one of the Mer, which means they have to go back eventually, it's simply their nature. That's why he can't stay."

Then, something changes in his eyes, and the smile slowly slips away from his face, "I told him, I could turn him into one of us, if he wanted to. But he," he turns to stare at the river again, "he loves the water too much. And I, I really don't regret turning, but at times, when I really miss him... at times like that, some part of me wishes I never turned, so I could be with him."

San doesn't know what to reply to that. He fidgets in his place, reminded of Yunho's hand still resting on top of his own, but Yunho saves him from murmuring a half-assed reply, speaking up again, "but then, I really am happy here. I turned for Seonghwa and Hongjoong, back when it was only us three, and I don't regret it."

So there were originally only three of them ㅡ San files away the information in his mind, "that's sweet of you," he admits, warmth filling his chest when Yunho smiles again, this time a genuine, happy one. But then, "wait, Mingi could be turned? A siren? Into a vampire?"

Despite the confusion, Yunho doesn't seem the slightest bit perplexed at it, "yeah. You know, not only humans can become one of us. It's not human specific. Like, a virus usually only attacks specific species, right? But thisㅡ I honestly don't know where it draws the line. I've seen a fair share of different creatures get turn into vampires."

San finds himself at a loss of words, again, so he only nods dumbly, watching as Yunho's eyes slowly lose their spark.

"Anyway, heㅡ I don't think he's coming tonight," the boy murmurs, turning away from the river, as if just looking at it brought up memories he didn't want to think of, "what do you say, we go back now?"

Desperate to make Yunho smile again, he takes the boy's hand in his, interlacing their fingers gently, "okay."

As a grin lights up Yunho's face again, San knows he's done the right thing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so, some of the questions have been answered, but that's not all there is >:3c i'd be really happy to hear what you think of this so far!!  
> feel free to hmu at my [tumblr](https://starryhwa.tumblr.com/) / [twitter](https://twitter.com/heartjoongs) or to ask anything abt the story on [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.me/heartjoongs)!!


	4. hold you by my side,

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> unbeta'd as always, but i hope that at least you'll enjoy this chapter !!  
> it's been a while since i last posted a chapter, so i hope nothing in this contradicts the rest of the fic lmao

Cold grass brushes against his bare ankles with every step he takes and for a second, he regrets not tugging on a warmer pair of socks.

But it's okay, he'll manage. As long as he doesn't slip on the wet ground and fall, probably taking Yunho down with him, straight into the river. Now, that would be a bummer. They'd be lucky not to die of hypothermia. If they didn't drown first, that is. Wait, can a vampire drown? Does the cold affect them as strongly as it would a living human being? Technically, they already have a lower body temperature, a fact he's noted from the brief contact with the others at the mansion. _Bad circulation_ , a thought that would usually make him snicker, if he didn't have any company. Does that mean he shouldn't be concerned about hypothermia? Or would that be too big of a leap?

On a second thought, maybe San shouldn't ponder about his own hypothetical death when he _really_ should be focusing on staying upright, on his own two feet. Maybe.

His eyebrows furrow as he tries to see the path ahead in the dark, and the silence that surrounds them is surprisingly comfortable.

They're still holding hands, he makes a mental note. He's not sure why. Maybe Yunho needs the comfort ㅡ or maybe he's just a touchy kind of person. Either way, it's nice. Yunho's hand is just a bit bigger than his own, which isn't really surprising in on itself. He _is_ taller than San by a good few inches. What really comes as a surprise, though, is how much San actually enjoys the skinship.

Maybe he's more touch starved than he first thought he was.

Giving Yunho's palm a gentle squeeze, he chances a glance at the other, "you okay?"

He's, admittedly, not being very specific about what he means. But Yunho seems to get it anyway, and that's what really counts, "I guess..."

He trails off, fingers twitching in San's hold, "I mean, I'm still kinda sad, but better than before."

San's not sure how to reply to that. He's never been too good at consoling people, especially not tragically in love vampires, and that makes him a bit scared of saying the wrong thing. Except, Yunho doesn't look like he's really waiting for an answer, anyway ㅡ he turns to face San, brings up his free hand to steer him in the right direction when he slips for the nth time that night, as if he's just content with this somewhat one-way conversation.

"You helped."

Blinking, San does a double take, "what?"

"I mean," the older pauses, and he's quiet for long enough for San to start feeling awkward. A gust of wind passes by, ruffling up his hair a bit, though Yunho's locks stay mostly in place. Having spent more time outside, his hair seems wet from dew ㅡ San guesses he must've lied down in the grass at some point. Even like this, it frames Yunho's face in such a way that San finds it hard not to stare, "you helped me feel better."

But that doesn't make sense. At least not to San. Because, "I haven't even done anything, thoughㅡ I only sat there and listened to you talk."

He's barely finished the sentence, but Yunho's already shaking his head with a slight smile.

"Sometimes, what people need the most is just to be heard out."

The moment his brain processes the words, he involuntarily freezes. Yunho still manages to take another step ahead, pulling at San's hand weakly before he notices and shoots him a questioning look.

It's... surprisingly touching. Definitely not what San's expected to hear. His chest feels kind of funny when he replies, "if you say so... then, I'm glad I could be of help."

The other doesn't reply, only nods slowly before tugging at his hand again, and they're back to walking.

  


  


They don't speak at all until they reach the streets again, though the silence is far from uncomfortable. It's filled with the sound of their footsteps, droplets of water sprinkle over clothes with the faintest sound ㅡ it's a far cry from actual rain, but one couldn't really _deny_ that it is, in fact, happening. Not hard enough to really bother them, but just enough to be noticeable.

San likes this kind of rain. Really, he likes any kind of it, but he prefers watching it from a safe distance, inside a warm, cozy room, buried under a blanket and daydreaming as he watches the rainstorm. It's nice like this too, though.

It might be also that he's not as sensitive to the cold as he used to be, but he doesn't think about it too much.

The streets are empty. It's expected, but still a bit puzzling to see. Yunho seems used to it, though, based on the lack of any change in his posture, or any external reaction. San can't help but tense the slightest bit.

"It's late," he murmurs, catching Yunho's attention. The boy turns to him quietly, but doesn't bother to say a thing, and San takes it as a sign to go on, "do vampires even need sleep?"

A beat passes, and San distantly notices a light turning off in one of the nearby houses. Yunho's lower lip juts out in a pout as he thinks, ponders, even. It's a bit entertaining to watch, "not really," he finally replies.

It's clear that he's not finished explaining, though, and so San hums and waits for him to go on.

"I mean, it's relaxing if you feel the need to just, stop existing for a couple hours," the corner of his lips quirks up, "but it's not necessary. Newly turned tend to rest more often, I guess it might be out of habit?" he chances a glance at San, as if looking for a confirmation.

Yawning, San nods, "yeah, I think that sounds about right," then, as an after thought he adds, "God, I'm exhausted."

When he looks up at Yunho again, he finds the the older already smiling. His cheeks are wet from the rain, and his clothes stick to his skin, but that's not what San focuses on ㅡ it's the look in his eyes, that he can't put his finger on. Yunho's expression is clear, willingly wearing his emotions on his sleeve, yet there's still something clouding San's vision. Everyone has a body language of their own, and he hasn't known Yunho for long enough to be able to read it.

An opened book, with a torn out page.

  


  


Stepping inside the mansion again, San feels content.

It's that weird state between consciousness and the lack of it, when everything's both real and imaginary, the gentle sleepiness paired with questionable humor. He stumbles over air, giggles it off and ignores the amused glances Yunho keeps shooting him in favour of pushing forward, wherever it might be.

He doesn't even notice they've already made their way into the kitchen until Yunho taps his shoulder and pulls him back into reality. He blinks, holds back another yawn and looks around the room, his gaze locking on the only other person there.

Jongho's leaning over the counter, visibly as out of it as San, though he's pretty sure it's not for the same reason. Instead, the boy looks tired, mentally. It's hard to see because of how dark the room is, as no one apparently thought of turning the light on, but as he squints he can make out the way Jongho's holding himself up, shoulders stiff and hand not quite steady, reaching up to his face. He's holding up one of the blood bags, but seems to give up on preparing a meal ㅡ fangs pierced through the thin plastic, he drinks it straight from the bag in a surprisingly clean manner. San's pretty sure if he tried the same thing himself, he'd just end up with blood splattered all over the floor.

He's actually, kind of, a tiny bit impressed.

Still standing by the doorway, he has half the mind to flip the switch, and in the next second the lamp blinks to life, lighting up the entire room and all three of them collectively wince.

"Sorry," he mumbles out when Jongho directs a tired glare his way.

It's quiet for a beat, and he can feel Yunho's curious gaze on him, but he's too sleepy to really pay attention to anything. His legs feel heavy as he steps closer to the table, sinking into the closest chair with a sigh. His neck cracks when he stretches, but none of them react, and he's vaguely aware of Jongho sipping on his drink before he notices Yunho's presence behind to him.

"You're back," Jongho's voice breaks the silence, seemingly done with his task. The blood bag lands in the trash, and for the record, Jongho doesn't sound as tired as he looks ㅡ which is a relief.

Mind too hazy to think of a reply, San only hums back. His eyelids keep closing on their own, but he doesn't miss the small smile on Jongho's lips. It disappears in a blink, but it's nice to know his sleepy state is at least amusing to watch.

"He didn't come," it's a statement, not a question, and San can see the way Jongho diverts his gaze to the floor afterwards.

Yunho still answers anyway, "he didn't."

The silence that follows isn't as comfortable anymore.

"Come on," Yunho's voice reaches his ears but it takes him too long to realize, too long to process what's spoken to him. He drags his eyes open, since when they were closed? Blinking back the exhaustion, he stares blearily at the outstretched palm in front of him, and only then does the meaning of Yunho's words sink in.

Taking a hold of the other's hand, it only takes a second before Yunho pulls him up. He's letting San lean on him, which he's almost unreasonably grateful for, and he tugs on the front of Yunho's shirt in an unspoken question.

Yunho only chuckles.

There's no protest from Jongho as Yunho tugs him out of the room, as gently as possible, and San briefly notices how the older flicks the light back off when they leave. He wants to ask why, but he's already using too much of his energy on staying awake, so he keeps quiet and only gazes curiously back into the dark kitchen.

He bumps right into Yunho's back when the boy suddenly stops.

Rising his head to meet the other's eye, he takes a step back and hums.

"Do you need help getting to your room?" Yunho asks so casually, it makes San wonder whether they all were as lost around the mansion the first time they got here.

His first instinct is to scowl, but then he pauses, reconsiders the question, "...please."

The responding smile on Yunho's face looks almost fond.

_(Is it? Or does he just want it to be? Fond. Does he want Yunho to be fond of him? Maybe it's neither. Maybe it's both.)_

  


  


The gentle rainfall outside the window has grown into something a second away from a storm, by the time he finds himself in the room. His room. His?

He watches the water droplets as they angrily pitter-patter against the glass. It's exactly what he had in mind earlier that day. And now he feelsㅡ comfortable. Content. The wind howls outside, but he's safe here, in the room he's starting to subconsciously call _his own_ , cozy and warm and pleased with the fact that Yunho's still by his side, still comfortingly holding his hand.

His head tips down, but he's too slow to straighten himself up again ㅡ he's sure Yunho noticed it. It's not like he hasn't made it pretty much obvious just how tired he is after their talk by the river.

"San."

A thunder sounds outdoors, breaking the steady rainfall for just a second, but it reaches his ears again. It's calming, in a way, even if he doesn't want to think of how terrible he would feel if not for the dry safety inside.

"Hey."

Staring out the window, it's a little bit disorienting ㅡ the nonstop rain makes everything look monotone, colorless, grey so dark it's almost black. If he turns his head just a few inches, he can barely see a hint of the deep blue hiding above the clouds, but it's gone as quickly as he notices it.

"San!"

The gentle touch to his shoulder startles him as much as if it were a slap. His head snaps up and he can see the apologetic look in Yunho's eye, but before the boy can say anything, he just shakes his head to let him know it's all okay.

Yunho's lips shut. He's gazing silently at San for a beat, before he speaks up again, "you should go to sleep."

"Yeah."

Neither of them move.

"You're barely even awake right now," the boy tries again. He's not sure what it is that gets his chest to feel all warm and funny ㅡ it might be the concerned tone of Yunho's voice, or it might be the careful way he pushes San down onto the covers. Either way, it's ridiculously considerate. This is the exact moment San thinks, he couldㅡ would die for this man. In a blink of an eye, if only the situation needed him to.

He smiles.

"Thank you."

Again, he's not sure what, exactly, he's thanking Yunho for. But it feels like the right thing to say ㅡ and the grin the other responds with is rewarding enough.

They stay like this for another second, and San watches as the happiness slowly slips from the other's face.

Yunho doesn't meet his eye as he reluctantly lets his palm slide out of San's grasp, and it's not hard to tell that something's bothering him. He's hiding it well, but San sees through his carefully blank face and pinched eyebrows.

He recalls what the others have told him about Yunho, in the short time he's stayed in the mansion. He remembers Wooyoung's wordsㅡ

_We all know he doesn't really like alone time, so usually one of us trails after him, to keep him some company_.

Before he even knows it, he's already parting his lips to say, "you know, you can stay here."

Something changes in Yunho's eyes just then, but he doesn't move any closer. As if he's trying not to get his hopes up, he drops his gaze to the floor before he replies, "are you sure?"

And for a second, San kind of wants to laugh.

Before he's been turned, there wasn't a single thing he's been _sure_ about. Not his field of studies, not his choice of career, not the relationship he's had with people nor the sense of his own self.

But this ㅡ it's the first time he can truly, easily say, yes. He's sure. It comes like second nature.

_(And to think he's only known Yunho for so long.)_

"It's lonely sleeping alone in such a big bed, anyway."

  


  


The moment he wakes up, he immediately senses something wrong. It's kind of obvious, honestly. The arms thrown around his back and loosely clinging to his pyjama shirt aren't Yunho's. They're... too petite to possibly be his.

And it's kind of easy to guess who they belong to, too.

He can feel the warmth seeping from behind, the hot puff of breath on his back, hair tickling his skin. The careful embrace makes him feel safe, just like the faint scent of coffee currently filling his lungs. Vampires don't need to breathe, not really ㅡ not for the air, at least. But it's the only way that smell carries around, and as he takes another tentative breath in, he finds it worth it.

Careful not to disturb the other, he slowly turns around in his hold, and looks at Hongjoong's relaxed expression.

Eyes shut, his hair falls in gentle waves onto the pillow. A few of the locks stick out on different directions, making San wonder if it's due to going to bed right after washing it, without having it dry off first. It certainly looks like it.

Reaching his hand up, he softly taps Hongjoong's nose, watching as the boy's eyebrows draw together, before his eyelids flutter open and a lazy smile makes its way to his lips.

"Good morning," San murmurs, and the smile widens just a bit.

"Morning."

He's faintly aware of the steady rise and fall of Hongjoong's chest, of the barely noticeable flush on his cheeks. Of all the signs that would usually make one 'alive'.

Why does he focus on it so much?

"Where's Yunho?" he asks, still a tiny bit confused.

The other blinks owlishly at him, "I don't know. Probably back at the bar," then he stops, nibbling on his lower lip, "he spent a pretty long while here with you, but he still has a jobㅡ and it's already pretty late, andㅡ and he doesn't really need sleep, but I do, so I kinda... joined in?"

For the first time since he's met Hongjoong, the boy actually looks... shy?

Avoiding San's eye, he adds, "I hope you don't mind."

"It's okay. I don't."

The words slipped past his lips before he even knows it, but he doesn't overthink it, because Hongjoong's smiling again. That's good. That's great, even. He likes Hongjoong's smile. He likes his curious gaze and the smell of coffee that carries with him. But there's one thing that doesn't let him fully relax around the boy.

Unsure if it's the right thing to ask, if it's the right moment, he speaks up, "Hongjoong... what are you?"

And sure, just as he expected, all the emotion suddenly drains from Hongjoong's face. It's unsettling, both how quickly his expression changed, and the fact that he realizes at this exact moment ㅡ how this is the exact first time he's ever seen the other so _cold_ , not to mention that the cold gaze is directed right at him.

He wants to apologize, but something about Hongjoong's stare keeps him from doing so. Instead, he waits quietly for whatever's about to come, and just as Hongjoong's lips partㅡ

The door to his room throws open, barely missing a collision with the neighbouring wall, and they both immediately spring apart. Hongjoong's more fortunate than him; the boy spent the entire night lying on the side of the bed right by the corner of the room ㅡ San, though, ends up falling to the floor in a flustered mess of limbs and pained whines.

Rubbing his aching back, he cracks one eye open and turns to face the doorway, against which an irritated looking Jongho leans. His eyebrows risen high, the Vampire stretches his lips into a frown. With his arms crossed across his chest, it takes San only a second to notice the way his index fingers keeps tapping against his forearm anxiously. Suddenly, San really misses the giggly Jongho from yesterday morning.

"What's taking you so long? Don't tell me you've been asleep all this time, it's already like, three in the _afternoon_ ," he rattles of, his glare bouncing from San to Hongjoong, until it finally fixes on the latter, "Seonghwa's getting worried."

It's Seonghwa's name that finally seems to shake Hongjoong out of his blank state. There's a soft gasp, and as San glances at the other, he's already hiding his face behind his palms, apparently embarrassed of his own reaction. He's stubbornly avoiding San's eye, probably still out of the embarrassment, when he says, "I'm... sorry. I didn't even realize how late it is."

Then, he raises his head, "Jongho... can you please, tell him that we'll be there in just a second?"

The only response Jongho gives is a curt nod, but San can tell it's only out of politeness ㅡ his eyes flicker down to San again, wondering, and it takes him a bit too long to turn around and leave.

What was he thinking?

"San."

Leaping up to a stand at the sudden attention, he hums questioningly as he pats down imaginary dust from his shoulders. When he looks up again, Hongjoong's already standing by his side.

"I do want to tell you, it's just that," he trails off, fingers fidgeting with the helix piercings on his left ear, in what San can only assume is a nervous habit, "the whole thing is, kind of... complicated. It's not something that I could possibly explain in just a few minutes, you know? But... you can come to my room later, when we're both free," then, he hesitates, his posture faltering, "if you're still curious by that point, that is."

"Oh believe me, I will."

The words make Hongjoong straighten up again, and there's a playful glint in his eye when he adds, "I'll hold you to that."

For some reason, he feels like he doesn't even need to ask which bedroom belongs to Hongjoong.

  


  


The first thing he notices when they step into the kitchen is Wooyoung sitting on top of the fridge, causing him to do a double take.

The sphinx has changed into more comfortable clothes than when San last saw him ㅡ a fluffy sweater paired with oversized tracksuit pants, pooling at his bare ankles. He seems only halfway awake, curled into a ball and completely ignoring Jongho's failed attempts at swatting him with a broom to get him down. He only hides a prolonged yawn behind his palm as Jongho swings at him again, a few grumbled curses thrown Wooyoung's way.

San has to admit, it's kind of... entertaining to watch.

It only takes a minute before Seonghwa appears seemingly out of nowhere (though it's probably due to San just not paying attention), and he hurries over, immediately starting to fuss over Hongjoong. It snaps San's focus back to the boy, now the duo.

He can't understand anything that slips past Seonghwa's lips, but he's not sure whether it's because of how fast Seonghwa's talking, or because he might've slipped into a different language all together. His hands grasp onto Hongjoong's arms tightly, before he realizes what he's doing and lessens his grip. After confirming that Hongjoong's perfectly okay, he lets his head fall into the crook of the boy's neck, his back relaxing in relief. San just doesn't get why Seonghwa would worry so much over this ㅡ whatever it is.

He looks Hongjoong over again. They've taken their time to change back into something presentable, even if Hongjoong didn't bother going back for his own clothes. He simply borrowed something from San's closet ㅡ San's? ㅡ and San's still kind of confused, because ㅡ is it really _borrowing_ , when the other technically owns the mansion, clothes inside San's room included?

Back to situation at hand, he stands to the side, watching it all happen, as if a single move from him would snap them all out of their daily bickering and remind them of his presence.

Except, he doesn't expect Seonghwa to turn towards him next.

He doesn't know how to act when Seonghwa steps closer to him, carefully looking him over just as he's done to Hongjoong before. He reaches his hands out, running his fingers over San's arms, hair, tipping San's head to either side with a gentle touch on his jaw, but the look in his eye is the most surprising thing in this entire situation.

Because he still looks worried.

They haven't even talked once, one-on-one, a real, actual deep conversation, and yet. Seonghwa treats him the same way he did _Hongjoong_.

And when San steals a glance at the said boy, he finds Hongjoong watching them with a smile that looks shockingly close to fond.

"You've been gone so long," he hears Seonghwa mutter. His voice has dropped down to a whisper, but it's the only thing he's said since he came up to San, so it's still easy to catch.

But it doesn't make sense.

"We've only been sleeping, though."

It's not supposed to be a question, but the way his voice goes higher towards the end probably makes his confusion pretty obvious. And, based on how Seonghwa's eyes slide down to the floor bashfully, he thought so, too.

"I'm... sorry," he replies eventually, and San realizes that Seonghwa's still yet to withdraw his hand, currently resting on San's shoulder, "it's just that, it's been a whileㅡ you kind of forget that's a thing that people do."

"You don't sleep?"

Sure, he knows from his conversation with Yunho, that Vampires don't necessary _need_ sleep to function. But he kind of expected them all to rest at least every now and then.

The thought of staying awake for what, days? Weeks? Months? Maybe even years? Maybe it sounds silly, but it scares him a little bit.

And yet, he watches in disbelief as Seonghwa shakes his head, before finally retracting his hand.

For some reason, San misses the contact. His skin tingles from Seonghwa's lingering touch, but that's unrealistic, right? It must be his imagination.

"There's no point," is all Seonghwa says. It doesn't feel like that's the whole story, but San lets it go, at least for now. If he really decides to stay with them for more than just a few days, he'll have more than enough time to ask.

So he turns to Hongjoong again and changes the topic, "do you sleep in often?"

He can hear another curse from Jongho's direction, but tries to ignore it. Turns out, it's pretty easy to fully focus on Hongjoong, anyway.

Because the boy shrugs, tugs his shirt up when it slips down his shoulder and says, "I think I used to? Can't really remember."

How does one _not remember_ whether they're a morning person or not?

Before he gets to voice his question out loud, though, there's a gasp and suddenly he's got a broom in his face. It's unfair, being the second time he's gotten hurt today, and he knows the exact moment he loses balance ㅡ thankfully, a pair of arms catches him in time, but his nose still hurts as hell.

"Ow, what did you do that forㅡ"

He cuts himself off when he realizes how whiny he sounds, but either no one picks up on it or they just don't feel like teasing him right now. He gives Jongho the stinky eye just as the other lowers the broom.

"Shit, sorry, I slipped," and he really does look apologetic, so San just can't hold this against him, but in the next second Jongho turns back to glare daggers at Wooyoung's dozing off frame, "I was aiming at him."

He's pretty sure he hears a faint _fuck you_ from above, but when he glances at him too, Wooyoung's fast asleep again. Or is he just acting? San squints up at him, his suspicions confirming when one of Wooyoung's eyes cracks open to peer down at them but closes again when he notices San's stare.

This entire household is a train wreck.

"Lower that broom, Jongho."

It's Seonghwa that finally scolds him ㅡ something that San didn't really expect, but then, somehow it feels right. Seonghwa has that air of authority around him. He's not sure where it came from, but unless they're playing around, the others seem to listen to him. It's no wonder though, he doesn't really want to get on Seonghwa's bad side either.

Jongho's expression sours, but he does as he's told, ducking out to place the broom back in its place.

After witnessing the exchange, San's maybe, kind of, a little bit impressed.

That is, until Wooyoung speaks up, "wait, no, come back! I'm hungry!"

There's no reply from the hall. Either Jongho's already fed up with Wooyoung's antics, or he just didn't catch that. Chances are, it's probably not the latter.

Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Hongjoong nudging Seonghwa's side with an awaiting look. Now, from what San's gathered, the Vampire doesn't seem to have many weaknesses. But if there is one, it's definitely Hongjoong.

Because instead of a frown or whatever response San expected, Seonghwa just shakes his head lightly before stepping closer to the fridge, andㅡ is that a ghost of a smile on his lips? Or is San just seeing things?

"What do you want, you freeloader?" it doesn't sound like he's angry, though. The insult flies over Wooyoung's head completely, which he neither admits nor denies, and he makes a show of pondering over it.

"Whatever you'll make me," he finally settles, and Seonghwa doesn't even try to hide his eyeroll.

"Instant noodles it is, then," he deadpans, immediately followed by a whine from Wooyoung. It makes Seonghwa crack a smile, before he adds, "just teasing you."

"Thank God."

Wooyoung jumps down as he says it, stumbling a bit, but he still manages to catch his footing and that's... maybe not majestic, but impressive enough. Once again, San finds himself wordless.

A hand slips into his, pulling his attention away from the duo ㅡ it's warm, so warm. Just as the smile that Hongjoong shoots his way when San glances at him. A strand of hair falls in front of his eyes, and San pushes it back without much thought, his hand lingering on Hongjoong's cheeks. It's cute, the way they pink, hot under his fingertips.

He shakes himself out of it, taking a step back only to remember their joined hands. It's embarrassing, just a bit, but Hongjoong keeps watching him with that same smile.

Grasping for any distraction, he asks, "Seonghwa can cook?"

"Yeah," Hongjoong responds easily, tugging at San's hand as if to tease him. He might not call him out, not out loud, but he _knows_. And he'll make sure San's knows that, too. The little shit. But no matter how hard he tries, San can't bring himself to be mad at him, "he's really good at it, too!"

_Really_? He steals a glance at Seonghwa, suddenly curious. The other doesn't meet his eye from where he's already cutting down onionsㅡ wait, how quick is he? When did he even get these? And mote importantly, when? San's pretty sure his little embarrassing moment with Hongjoong didn't take _that_ longㅡ or maybe it did? God, that's even more embarrassing.

But then, Seonghwa's eyes snap up to meet his gaze, as if he was fully aware of San glancing at him all this time, but his hands don't stop movingㅡ okay, now he's just showing off.

"Where did he learn how to do that?" he whispers to Hongjoong, unable to look away. He feels a light squeeze to his palm, but before Hongjoong can answer, Seonghwa's already speaking. God damn it, he forgot about the stupid super hearing.

"At the royal kitchens."

He says it so casually, San doesn't even process the words for a second. Then he blanches, "r- royal?"

Wooyoung seems to be holding in laughter, which usually would make San scowl. But right now, he's too shocked to really notice it, "what do you mean, royal?"

Seonghwa smiles, small but clearly pleased with the attention he's getting, "would you believe me if I told you, I used to be a Prince?"

If Seonghwa didn't look so serious, San would think he's kidding. Scratch that, he's still partly convinced the older is just pulling his leg. He glances back at Hongjoong, then at Wooyoung, but neither call Seonghwa out, does that mean he's not joking?

"Wait, _what_?" he finally huffs out, but the other only shrugs, turning back to the food before him. No, he couldn't possibly just _ignore_ San after dropping such a bomb at him, the fuckㅡ

But that's the moment that Hongjoong decides to leave, pulling away from San slowly as he says, too loud not to be a way of distraction, "I'm not really hungry, so I'm just gonna goㅡ you better enjoy your food though, Wooyoung."

And as everyone acts as if nothing just happened, San can't do anything but get over the shock and observe Seonghwa as he works. He's pretty sure the two keep on talking, but he doesn't pay attention to their conversation ㅡ he's too busy processing the new information to do so.

  


  


His knuckles rap against the wooden door, creating a faint echo across the long hallway. He's standing in front of the same bedroom again, the one he's felt a curious pull towards before, the one that feels as comfortable as the person it belongs to. Where the smell of ink has sank deep, it seeps out through the door, faint but still recognizable enough.

"Come in."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so, did y'all like it? please let me know!! comments motivate me to write WAY more than kudos alone 😔
> 
> tbh i'm not really satisfied with this chapter, but it's already been so long,, i didn't wanna make y'all wait even more,, so i hope this didn't suck hgjfj


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